Operation Sea-Lion
by ShadedJade
Summary: After a traumatic event, Emma takes her two sons to Storybrooke in hope of starting over. The mysterious book given to her by Roland's birth mother embarks the little family on a quest to save fairytale characters from an evil curse. If only resident Killian Jones wasn't an equally interesting distraction. Very AU. Captain Swan.
1. Ties That Bind Us

I've been working on this story for quite a while and I'm very nervous about finally uploading it for you guys. I'd really appreciate feedback as this is very AU even for me! This story has become very special to me as a writer, so I really hope you enjoy it! _Note to those reading "Bumps"_ \- I alternate with work on both these stories, so don't worry. The only difference is this story is faster to write - therefore, I need more time to catch up on chapters/editing for Bumps before uploads resume for that story.

 **Warning:** This story deals with themes/moments of general domestic abuse, non-sexual harm to a child, alcoholism, and other related issues. It will not be overall graphic or extensive, as I focus more on the emotional recovery of such, but be aware that those things will be dealt with in this story. This is just a warning for those who may have any triggers for those sort of subjects. The story also contains small amounts of swearing, but nothing vulgar.

* * *

 **Prologue: One Year Ago**

The rain soaked through Emma and Henry's clothes, as they left the yellow bug and hurried across the street. They gripped tightly to their umbrellas, providing only minimal shelter from the howling weather.

Feeling the vibration of her phone, buried deep in the pockets of her thick jacket, Emma nudged Henry up the wide steps of a courthouse. Ducking under the alcove, Henry shook water from his hair, while Emma glanced at her phone. She held her breath for a few seconds, then answered.

'Yeah?' Emma glared at the stormy clouds and pouring rain. She refused to see it as a bad sign – not on the day she'd welcome a new son.

'It's me.'

'I have caller-ID, Richard. What's up?' She frowned, propping her umbrella against a pillar. She used her free hand to signal Henry to button up his coat.

The nine-year-old rolled his eyes at her, and fumbled with the buttons.

'I was fired.'

Emma closed her eyes tightly shut, willing the rain to no longer be her concern.

She leaned back against a brick wall, and exhaled a long breath to keep herself calm. Looking around, nothing had changed, but internally a battle waged on. She didn't ask him why he'd been fired. It was a subject they'd surely revisit later, resuming the routine of Richard insisting none of it was his fault. If only he believed Emma always knew when she was being lied to - it would have saved them a lot of arguing in the two years they'd been dating.

'Emma?'

'I heard you.' Emma struggled to keep her voice normal, glancing at Henry. The boy continued fumbling with his buttons, but she had no doubt he was listening. 'I don't have time for this. I have to pick up Roland. We'll talk later.'

She hung up, gripping the phone unnecessarily tight, and reminded herself she was only there because of him. Richard had contacts and friends in high places. The apartment was in his name too. She needed all of those things to bring Roland home, and she wasn't going to let anything jeopardise that.

'Come on.' Emma tugged Henry's hand, snatching up her umbrella to raise it against the rain, and continued to their destination.

'Mum, what's wrong?'

'Nothing,' she dismissed. 'Let's go get your brother.'

Emma kept a tight grip on Henry's hand, pulling him through the crowd of impatient people far less drenched than they were. She imagined they all had important jobs to do or big homes to return to. She was a bail-bonds person with an apartment just big enough for three people, but it was enough.

'What if he doesn't like me?' Henry worried, as she led him to the lobby desk.

'Why wouldn't he like you?' Emma asked, skimming over the printed details she'd already seen at least a dozen times over the past few months.

She signed the last of the adoption papers, and willed herself to remain calm. Handing them to a lady with the ridiculously flowery scarf, Emma turned to face her anxious nine-year-old.

'You're his brother now.' Emma smoothed the collar of Henry's black coat.

This was the first time her two sons would meet, on the day Roland officially became a member of their family.

'What if he doesn't want a brother?'

'Henry.' Emma sighed, resting her hands on his shoulders. 'Do you remember what I told you, when I first showed you a picture of Roland?'

Henry nodded, tapping the toe of his shoe against the front of the counter. He fidgeted, but listening carefully.

'I said, _"family isn't about size or location; it's the people who fight for you and never let you feel alone."_ And right now, Roland needs that. He needs us.'

'I just want him to like me,' Henry said.

'Emma Swan?'

She turned at her name. The woman gestured to the little brown-haired boy who had already captured Emma's heart. She'd only seen Roland a handful of times since swearing to his birth mother that she'd love and raise him as equally as Henry. It still surprised her how fast his hair grew, and the amount of dimples one small face could have.

Roland had just turned three, which was about the same age Henry was when Emma accepted full custody of him.

'Mama?' Roland stood in front of her, his brown eyes partially hidden by his curly hair.

'Yeah, kid.' She choked back her emotions.

The boy had already forgotten his birth mother; Emma was the only one he knew. Emma wished she could say she was ready for the responsibility of raising two boys in a small Boston apartment.

'Roland.' Emma steered Henry around in front of her so the two boys could finally meet face-to-face. 'This is Henry, your brother.'

'Hi,' Henry said.

Roland looked from her blonde hair to smile at Henry. The boys weren't too far apart in height, and shared enough similar appearances that one could easily believe they'd been brothers since birth.

Before Henry could say anything else, Roland stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his new big brother. It was futile effort for Emma to keep herself calm at the sight of her two sons hugging with such excitement and acceptance to their growing family. She was glad to at least be handling it better than the social worker, who stood nearby blowing her nose into a handkerchief.

'Let's go come.' Emma smiled.

Giving Henry her umbrella to carry, she took his hand into her own and held the other out to Roland. The smaller boy slipped his tiny hand into hers, and Emma couldn't tell if it was rain or tears in her eyes as they left the building.

Emma didn't care about the rain chilling through her skin, as she watched Henry shield Roland from the weather the best he could. All felt right in the world, a rarity she knew only came in short bursts.

Reality came crashing back down as soon as they crossed the threshold of their apartment.

'Henry, go show Roland your room.' Emma ushered the boys in the direction of their bedroom.

She kept her eyes on the couch, frowning at the sandy-haired man lounging there as if it wasn't such an important day for his girlfriend.

'Come on, Roland.' Henry held his brother's hand and led him away, offering the briefest wave to Richard.

'So that's him?' Richard watched Roland, who stared back as he passed. 'The new boy?'

'That's him.' Emma hung her jacket on the rack by the door, taking her time to avoid what was coming.

She turned, with her arms firmly crossed over her chest, and waited.

'I still don't get it.' Richard shrugged, inching higher on the couch. 'Why do you need another one? At least Henry's your real kid.'

'Roland as much my son as Henry,' Emma stated.

They'd been having this conversation for months. In all the time they'd been together, Richard had never shown any interest in Henry beyond acknowledging that the boy lives there too. Emma had hoped things might be different with Roland.

'Whatever. I'm not here to fight.' Richard stood, walking to the kitchen to look through the fridge.

'Why are you here?' Emma leaned against the door.

'I lost my job, Em!' he growled, facing her. 'I came right over and you weren't even here.'

'You know I had to pick Roland up.' She shook her head. Of course, once again, everything was all about him.

Emma used to think maybe she just didn't have anything worth caring about, but seeing the complete lack of interest Richard had with Henry made her realise that wasn't entirely true. It was easy to forget, when he paid the rent and rallied his friends to help her adopt Roland, but Emma felt her vision was clearest when it came to Richard's priorities.

She always came last, yet he held all the cards.

'Couldn't it wait?' he raised his voice, slamming the fridge door shut.

Emma glanced at the boys' closed bedroom door, and braced herself.

She couldn't remember how long it had been since she'd enjoyed being near Richard, or what it felt like to go days without yelling. The frustration they shared was reaching a point Emma hoped would never happen. She wanted to believe, if things just got better for him then they'd be okay too. Every day, the biggest struggle she faced was how determined he was to name her as the reason for everything difficult in his life. In his mind, his selfish nature and compulsive lying wasn't to blame, but rather she wouldn't play the role of his unconditionally doting girlfriend.

Emma had given up trying to please Richard.

'You knew this was today,' she reminded him

'It's every day!' Richard shouted. 'That boy takes all of your attention. Now there's two of them? You put them before anything or anyone else, Em.'

'It's called being a mother!' Emma didn't want to yell, but she needed to feel it burn in her throat.

Richard was lazy and uninterested most of the time, but when he yelled glass rattled. His voice had a way of getting under her skin; that booming sound made her feel very small. The only way she could keep it together was to raise her own voice. It was the only power she had to match his, and it made her feel sick inside.

That was not the sort of home she wanted her sons to be accustomed to. She'd had a lot of them growing up in the foster system, and never wanted her children to know what it was like. Emma didn't always yell back at Richard, but since preparing to welcome a new child into her home she'd needed to remind him there was a limit.

'I'm their mother,' Emma repeated. 'You knew this when we started dating. You knew this was my life.'

'Yeah, well...' He shook his head. 'I hoped it would change.'

'You're unbelievable!' Emma opened her mouth to say more, but halted when she felt a small hand tug at her clothes. She hadn't even noticed the bedroom door opening.

'Mama?' Roland looked up at her with wide eyes. 'I'm hungry.'

Emma exhaled a long breath, wanting to release her frustration, and looked at Henry. The boy stood by the doorway of his bedroom, glaring at Richard. The man pulled a face at him in return, and dropped onto the couch to watch TV. Emma placed a hand on Roland's head, feeling the boy's anxiety to the situation.

Home sweet home, she thought bitterly.

'They won't be little forever,' Richard added. 'Soon they'll grow up and become a real problem. You think you can handle that if I'm not around to pick up after you all the time?'

Emma made an incoherent sound of anger, and snatched her jacket off the rack. She grabbed the boys' hands and yanked them from the apartment. Kicking the door so it slammed shut, she led her sons back downstairs to her yellow bug. The rain was lessening, but she ignored it.

'Why doesn't he like us?' Henry asked softly from the seat beside her, as Emma got in and started the engine. Roland remained very quiet in the back seat.

She hated Richard for ruining this day for them.

'He doesn't know you,' Emma sadly touched her son's face. 'He never tried to, Henry.'

'Do you love him?' His voice was almost a whisper.

Emma turned away and drove them into the rainy street. She'd take them to the only other person she knew – the woman who saved her life. Moseley was the only foster parent Emma still kept in contact with. She was who Henry stayed with for the first three years of his life, and who continued to babysit him for long hours while Emma was at work. She knew, with Roland now a part of their family, that such a tradition would continue.

Emma couldn't imagine what life as a mother would be like without Moseley there to help her out, or how she'd keep custody of her sons without Richard's highly-connected contacts from his well-funded lifestyle. As Emma got out of the bug and led her boys to the door of the familiar blue house, dread crept through her. Moseley was getting older, and Richard far less tolerable to be around.

She didn't know where she'd be if they vanished from her life.

'Richard's not family,' Henry said, leaning to her side. 'He never fights for us. He doesn't love us.'

Emma wished her nine-year-old son didn't have the wisdom to recognise the truth of that.

* * *

 **Chapter One: Ties That Bind Us**

Emma felt as if her entire life had halted – frozen in time, somehow. She looked over at the ticking clock on the wall, and knew it was internal. The coppery smell of blood continued to flood her senses, and the sticky-warm feeling lingered even after she'd scrubbed her hands raw. She was at a complete standstill, and each passing second brought her closer to shattering.

Every morning, for the entire year since welcoming Roland into the family, Emma woke frustrated before the day began. She felt weighed down in the sheets - thinking of the job she no longer enjoyed, and man she'd never loved. Richard was usually her first sight of the day, and it disgusted her.

It had been a rough year.

Henry and Roland fought often, mostly because Henry didn't like sharing or having Roland follow him around everywhere. Emma knew a lot of it was related to the added stress of having Richard frequently in the apartment. She'd send the boys to their room when he got home from work, at the new office job he hated more than the last. The apartment had an increased quantity of pens - a clear indication he was already stealing office supplies from the new place.

It was no surprise when he was fired again, just under a week ago.

Richard went to the pub with his buddies more nights in the week than he was home. Emma didn't miss him. She'd drag herself from bed when he stumbled into the apartment too drunk to find the light switch, and had to set him up on the couch before she could return to sleep. Emma didn't mind, if it meant she no longer shared with him.

Moseley never missed an opportunity to voice her opinions of the man each time Emma visited. When Richard's temper flared hotter than it had in a while, the woman urged Emma to leave him. Emma could hear the social worker's voice in her head every time, telling her how important it was for her sons to have a man in their life. Moseley said that wasn't true, but Emma struggled. She still didn't know how to be the best mother she could, and felt she wasn't doing her job as well as she should be.

So Richard stayed, and Moseley lectured - nothing changed. Until the one morning everything changed. Richard finally crossed the line; he went too far.

Emma tried to remember that morning, but it felt so far away now. She'd made scrambled eggs, and watched her sons eat their breakfast without any plans for work or school. It was a simple moment where she could pretend her life was how she'd hoped it would be when she'd decided to keep Henry years ago.

The sound of broken glass and sight of spilled milk was where it started to change. Roland began his round of apologies, while Emma placed a hand on his curly locks to assure her four-year-old she wasn't mad at him.

Richard was always far less forgiving.

Emma submerged in guilt as she leaned her back against the wall, closing her eyes to picture the morning's events in her mind. She wanted to know how she hadn't seen the warnings; the slight alterations that crumbled everything from the moment Richard started shouting how clumsy Roland was.

That was when she'd snapped.

Emma shouted at Richard to shut up, startling both herself and the boys. She didn't know how things escalated from there. They argued all the time, and he'd never physically struck her. Richard shoved a little, and grabbed her wrists in the heat of a fight, but never had he done what happened that morning. Never had he raised a hand to her child. The shouting over spilled milk ended in shocked silence when Henry angrily told Richard to leave his mother alone. It was the first time the boy had so verbally opposed the man, who raised his hand to slap the ten-year-old across the cheek.

Emma was on him in a flash. Richard shouted and struggled, but her job and life in the foster system had her fully equipped and able to throw a grown man from her apartment. Never had she felt such rage towards another person before; Emma believed she could have done serious damage to him in that moment.

She could have killed him, had her sons not been sitting in the other room.

Emma couldn't remember what threats she'd screamed at him, but every word he returned with echoed in her mind. He reminded her the apartment was in his name, demanding she take her brats and get out.

" _You still need me,"_ Richard said hastily, picking himself up and dusting off his suit. _"You'll call me back. You can't do this on your own!"_

" _For my sons, I can do anything."_ Emma moved closer to his face. _"Anything, you hear me?"_

Slamming the door into his face was the only victory she'd been allowed. Henry's hand was on his cheek, and Emma felt she'd failed him completely. It was a mistake to let Richard near her boys, and now the carpet had been ripped from under them entirely. They packed up and she called Moseley. The woman said they could stay with her for a week, and to head right over.

It was dark now, and Emma was shaking. She still felt like the worse person in the world for breaking her own rules about letting anyone into her life or near her kids.

Richard had never struck out at them like that before, and Emma knew she should have seen it coming. She should have known. Just as she knew Moseley needed to change the locks on her windows in the risky neighbourhood she lived in. Just as she'd known the sense of unease, when they'd arrived at the house, wouldn't be unfounded. She'd made the boys wait in the foyer, and the sight in the living room still churned her stomach hours after she'd left.

The blood seeping into the edge of the pale rug, gasps of jagged breaths from the only person she had left to keep her grounded, and the ache Emma related to what it must be like to have her heart ripped out of her chest – it all lingered freshly in her mind.

The way the dark-skinned older woman used to wrap Emma, Henry and Roland into a hug all at once was what they'd miss the most. Her embraces turned the world a little less overwhelming and big. The cookies and picture books she spoiled the boys with made the house feel a little closer to home than Emma had ever experienced. In an instant, it was all gone.

The only thing Emma had left of her life up until that moment was her sons, a yellow car, and book of fairytales.

Moseley only had one family member – a bitter cousin she never spoke to. The man rushed her funeral and barely stayed more than ten minutes at the wake. Emma was still there, long after all the other guests had left. She'd seen so many former foster children attend, and tried to keep the icy reminder at bay.

Nothing was permanent.

Hearing the shattering of glass, time resumed. Emma snapped out of her haze, and rushed across the room to clean up the spilled water. Roland just stared at it, his small form shaking. Henry sat across from him at the diner table, eyes staring at the cover of the book. The fairytales. Emma glanced at the book and frowned. She'd asked Moseley to hang onto it for her, after Roland's birth mother pleaded her to take Roland. Now was not to the time to venture further into her memories, but Emma was given an opportunity for a distraction.

The book could be the answer.

She kissed Roland's forehead, and grabbed the book. She hadn't touched it since the police returned it to her. They'd tried to explain Moseley was stabbed by a junkie who overheard her mentioning her mother's jewels she kept in a box, but Emma didn't care. She didn't want to know any of it. Richard had banished them, and Moseley was dead; her world had crumbled beneath her. Emma had never felt so lost.

Flipping open the book, she caught the piece of paper slipping out. Her throat constricted at the sight of Moseley's handwriting and drawn circle over a spot on the map sheet. Storybrooke?

The woman's dying words echoed in her mind. The urge to run had been bound by Moseley's presence and encouragement over the years, then Richard's assistance with lawyers and child services obligated her to remain at his side. Now it was all stripped away, Emma was terrified where she might drift. Looking at the faces of her sad and scared sons, she knew a big change was needed as quickly as possible before she lost her footing entirely.

She stared at them, flashing back to sitting on the cold flood beside Moseley's lifeless form. The gasp had turned her head to see Henry standing in the doorway, his eyes wide at the sight of blood. He couldn't see everything, with the sofa in the way, but he'd seen enough. She had to make him forget.

'Time to go,' Emma said, nudging both boys off their chairs.

'Go where?' Henry mumbled.

'Home.' She had to do this. Her walls shook, and mind rallied against her emotions, but Emma didn't know what else to do. She had no one and nothing to guide her.

Gripping the book in her arms, Emma did the only thing she could do well: run.

'A real home,' Emma continued, and both boys looked at her. 'Somewhere far away, where Richard will never be, is a place we can be happy.'

'Where?' Roland wondered.

'A town called Storybrooke.' Emma leaned closer, trying to offer a genuine smile. 'Are you boys up for an adventure? We'll start everything over - get a real house with stairs and a yard. What do you think?'

'I'm scared.' Roland rushed at her stomach.

Her fake smile slipped as she crouched to hold her son to her, chin rested on his head, and willed herself to shut out all the pain and loss. Moseley's death had already prompted Emma to quit her job, not wanting to face the idea of who would look after her boys while she worked. Richard had the power to take them from her, and Emma needed to solve that problem first.

Emma didn't believe in magic or fate, but she needed her sons to. She needed something big and hopeful to pull them out of the darkness the last three years had cast over them. Maybe it was a terrible plan, to make them believe in something that wasn't real, but Emma didn't care for being rational.

She needed an escape - Storybrooke was going to be that.

'It's all my fault,' Henry said, staring at the floor. His eyes watered and breathing shortened. 'If I hadn't-'

'No,' Emma interrupted, handing the book to Roland. 'Listen to me, Henry – none of this is your fault. You were very brave.'

Her son's guilt broke the barriers keeping her tears at bay. She held his hands at his side and begged him to believe her. He stared down at her, biting his lip, and nodded. Emma hugged him with one arm, and struggled to keep herself under control.

Their essential belongings were already packed in the car. Richard was out of their lives, and nothing tied them to Boston anymore. Emma led her boys outside, looking up at the night sky and wishing she could see the stars. Traffic passed by the yellow bug, and she felt the swell of determination to get away no matter what it took. She'd reached the edge of what she could handle.

They were leaving Boston tonight and would never look back. Emma didn't care; no one was taking her sons from her, and she would never allow herself to rely on anyone again. All she needed was to get them to Maine, and start their lives again.

Emma had sobbed and pleaded with Moseley not to leave her, but even with her last breaths the older woman had been wise and stern. That's how she'll be remembered, as the presence in her life who taught Emma she was stronger than she thought. She took back her power, even if it meant locking her heart away to protect it. Emma had her sons, and from now on they were the only ones who mattered. It was a mistake to think anyone else could.

" _You don't need me, Emma."_ Moseley had gasped. _"It's time for you to find hope somewhere else. Go to Storybrooke. Start over. Believe in magic..."_

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Feedback would be very much appreciated. There is a video for this story, which you'll find the link to in my profile. I realise including Roland in this story and scenario may seem rather strange/random, but if you stick with this story I promise you'll understand later on why I didn't just make up an OC kid. Thank you so much for reading, and I sincerely hope you're enjoying it so far!


	2. Welcome to Storybrooke

**Welcome to Storybrooke**

Emma buckled Roland into the back seat of the yellow bug, moving around his drink and straw, telling whatever funny story came to mind. Her little boy giggled and squirmed, bringing a smile to her face.

Shutting the door, Emma felt freer already. She glanced back at the lit streets of Boston, glad to never have to see it again. She sat in the driver seat and looked at her ten-year-old passenger. Henry had his head bowed over the book of fairytales she'd given him to read on the trip. The book was going to save them all.

'I still don't understand.' Henry sighed, leaning back.

'You will,' Emma promised.

She started the engine and drove into the mass of traffic leading out of the city. It was still early in the night; they'd be in Storybrooke before sunrise.

'Here we go!' Emma tried to be as enthusiastic as she could.

She needed them to be excited about their new adventure ahead, not dwell on the nightmares they were leaving behind. The sign _"you are now leaving Boston"_ appeared, and she got both boys to cheer with her as they passed it.

'What's Storybrooke like?' Henry asked.

'No idea.' Emma shrugged. 'I've never been there, but it's a very special place.'

'Why?' Roland wondered from behind her.

'It's invisible to the rest of the world.' Emma pulled the story from bits Roland's birth mother had said, and the implications of Moseley's words. 'It's not on any map. You can only find it if you already know where it is.'

'Wow!' Roland gasped. Her plan was working.

'How is that possible?' Henry frowned, holding tightly to the book.

Emma knew this was the moment she couldn't turn back from.

Moseley had told her the fairytales were real, and the woman didn't even believe in life on other planets. She was strictly no-nonsense her entire life, and suddenly as Moseley was dying she talked about magic and a cursed town that had to be saved. Emma convinced herself that right now truth and reality wasn't important – all she needed was to give her sons something to believe in. Something to give them hope.

'I need you to believe in magic,' Emma told them. 'Really believe it.'

'I believe,' Roland said.

'What's going on?' Henry asked, shaking his head. 'Mum, you're being weird.'

Roland was four and Henry was ten; Emma knew their ages played a part in how easily they trusted and who would need more proof. Henry also had three years of Richard's broken promises, whereas Roland only had one. She had to succeed with her plan; it was the only way they could move on.

'It's more than just a book.' Emma glanced at it.

Henry flipped to the page she'd had her own doubts with - the baby blanket so much like her own, also engraved with her name. Maybe it was true? She wasn't an expert on crazy, and if her plan was going to work she needed to be convincing. If something about Storybrooke had Moseley swearing by magic to her last breath, then Emma had to at least keep an open mind.

Henry stared at the picture for a while. He flipped back to the first page and started reading. Emma left him to it, knowing it was a long drive and she had too many thoughts to process. She had to keep the story simple and consistent.

~ O ~

It was a long way to Maine – longer with their regular stops when Henry wanted snacks, Roland needed the bathroom, or Emma had to get some fresh air. With less than an hour until she expected they'd find out if Storybrooke was real or not, the rain pelted across the car windows and resumed the quiet atmosphere.

Emma kept driving. Roland had fallen asleep in the back-seat, and Henry was re-reading the book with the aide of Emma's phone for light. It was impossibly dark outside, which resurfaced Emma's worries about what they might find at the end of their road trip. She was driving on a whim towards a town that may not exist. Moseley was certain of it and that was enough motivation to keep going.

The further they got from Boston the more Emma felt like herself again.

She'd been a kept woman for three years – each day bound in a lifestyle she hated. Emma had no idea the kind of chaos it could have further dissolved into without her sons to remind her what was important. They kept her going, day after day. For the first time in three years, Emma realised just how much she'd relied on them. That wasn't right – she was the parent. It was her job to keep them together, and she hoped that's exactly what their fresh start would bring.

'Welcome to Storybrooke,' Henry read the passing sign. He closed the book on his lap, and inched higher in his seat. 'Roland, we're here!'

'Henry...' Emma grumbled.

'Hmm, what?' Roland's groggy voice mumbled from behind her. 'Where?'

'Storybrooke.' Henry grinned.

'I don't see it.'

'You will,' Emma said.

There was a sign, so it had to be a real place. She exhaled a sigh of relief, and drove them into the main street. It was a well-lit small town with the least amount of traffic she'd seen in a long time, though it had to be rather late at night by now. There were a few cars parked along the road, in front of small shops and fenced lawns. It looked peaceful, yet eerie.

'Oops!' Henry scrambled for the phone; it slipped from his fingers when he'd tried to get a better look at the town.

Feeling the phone fall by her feet, Emma pressed her foot to the pedal and brought the bug to a screeching halt. She'd managed to steer them to a suitable parking space, but just in time.

'Henry!' she scolded, bending to pick up the phone. 'Be careful.'

'Sorry,' he mumbled.

Hearing her son apologise resurfaced memories of the previous day. Emma checked her phone was okay, and the date glared at her from the bright screen. Unbuckling, she got out and angrily slammed the car door. Power-lines overhead sparked, but they were the least of her problems. In all the drama and grief, Emma hadn't noticed what day it was.

Happy Birthday to her.

'Mum?' Henry got out of the car and walked around it.

'We're here.' She tucked the phone into her jacket. 'This is Storybrooke. What do you think?'

'It's okay.' He shrugged, looking around. 'It doesn't look cursed.'

'What's cursed supposed to look like?' Emma challenged.

'Good point.' Henry nodded. 'Roland needs to see this too. I'll get him.'

'No, Henry-' Emma stepped across his path. 'It's been a long night, kid. And it's almost...' She looked up at the clock towering over them on the building at the corner.

'8:15?' Henry smirked.

'No, it's not.' She showed him her phone.

'That clock never moves,' a voice said.

Henry and Emma turned to see a man approach them, with another walking his dog alongside. The strangers glanced them over. Emma placed a protective hand on Henry's shoulder, just in case. They seemed friendly enough, but it was almost midnight on an otherwise empty street - she wasn't taking chances.

'You're not from around here, I take it?' The blue-eyed one with the accent raised an eyebrow. 'Just passing through?'

'Actually, moving in,' Emma said. 'Or hoping to.'

'That's nice.' The second man smiled. 'Don't get a lot of newcomers around here.'

'Why not?' Henry asked eagerly.

Emma could see her story catching on, but hoped he wasn't about to say anything about it to their company. The last thing they needed was a reputation for being the crazy new neighbours.

'The small town charm's not for everyone, I suppose.' The leather-clad man offered his hand to Emma. 'Killian Jones.'

'Archie Hopper,' the other added.

'Emma.' She shook their hands, watching fiercely as Henry stepped forward to do the same. She was good at reading people, and decided the strangers could at least shake her son's hand in polite greeting.

'I'm Henry.' The boy beamed at them. 'And that's my brother, Roland.' He pointed to the car.

The men waved to the small boy, who returned the greeting with both hands and a wide smile.

'Do people around here usually take long strolls around town this close to midnight?' Emma asked.

'Is that the time?' Archie frowned, looking at his watch. 'It's hard to tell.'

'I was just heading home, actually,' Killian added. 'Anyway, it's a pleasure to meet you all.' He nodded, and walked away.

Emma noticed the way he firmly kept both hands buried in the pockets of his jacket.

'Do you know anywhere we can stay for the night? Like a hotel or something?' Emma asked Archie.

'Oh, sure.' He pointed down the street. 'Granny's Bed and Breakfast is just over there.'

'Thanks.'

'You have a good night.' Archie smiled.

'Yeah, you too.' Emma remained conversational, while Henry pat the dalmatian Archie had with him.

'Can we get a pet?' Henry looked up at her. 'If we have a yard...'

'Uh, maybe.' She frowned, already deciding that wasn't happening any time soon. 'Right now, let's just find a bed.'

'Are they really cursed?' Henry watched Archie walk away with the dog.

'Yeah.' Emma moved to unbuckle Roland from his seat. 'Time's frozen here. That's why the clock doesn't work.' She pointed to the building.

'Who's that?' Roland asked, hopping out of the car with a brave leap.

'Archie Hopper and Killian Jones. I dunno the dog's name.' Henry told him, holding his brother's offered hand. 'Those aren't fairytale characters.'

Emma hesitated, and peered over her shoulder at the boys. Her plan was cracking. She didn't want to pile lies upon lies into the story. It was supposed to be a distraction that over time will fade away as they start their new lives.

The more she told them, the longer it would linger.

'Maybe they don't know?' Roland shrugged.

'Of course!' Henry agreed. 'It must be the curse making them forget.'

'Sounds about right,' she said. 'All I know is that the Evil Queen trapped a bunch of fairytale characters here, and it's up to us to save them.'

'Why us?' Roland wondered.

Emma gathered enough of their bags to last the night, and led the boys across the street. The rain had stopped when they arrived, but the wind was still cold. She'd locked her car, wondering if that same necessary security was needed in such a small town. She wasn't taking the risk either way – everything they owned was in the car.

'Because she's the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming,' Henry explained, as if he'd already memorised the book. 'They sent her through a magical wardrobe to save her from the curse. She's the only one who can break it.'

'Wow!' Roland gasped, so enthralled he stumbled at the back doorstep of the inn.

'Remember, it's a secret,' Emma said, halting the boys at the doorway. 'People will think we're crazy if we go around talking about magic and curses. This is our secret mission, okay?'

Her sons nodded eagerly, and followed her to the counter. It wasn't the most upkeep of places, but anywhere was better than what they'd left behind.

'I should have moved to Boston!' a voice yelled, as a young woman came down the stairs, furious at who Emma assumed was her grandmother.

The city haunted them even here.

'Mama.' Roland clung to her leg, while the women kept yelling.

'It's okay,' Emma assured him, lifting the boy to rest against her hip.

He sleepily lay his head on her shoulder, while Henry stepped closer to her other side.

'Excuse me?' Emma said harsher than she'd intended.

The older woman turned to look at her as if startled by her presence, then softened at the sight of the tired boys.

'I'd like a room.' She added.

'Really?' the young woman wrapped a red scarf over her head.

Emma nodded, not listening as the older woman talked about forest and square views. She agreed with whatever moved things along, and pressed a kiss to Roland's forehead. This had to work out. If Storybrooke couldn't be their new home, there was nowhere else.

'Now, what's the name?'

'Swan,' she answered. 'Emma Swan.'

'Emma. What a lovely name.'

Henry gasped, pressing closer to her side, as they all noticed the man standing there. She wondered if small towns were much busier than she'd thought - apparently everyone was awake an hour before midnight as if it was the middle of the afternoon. She just wanted to tuck her boys into bed and sleep the day away.

'Thanks.' She frowned.

'Mama?'

'I know, Roland.' Emma rubbed his back. 'I'm getting us a room now.'

There was an exchange of money and brief explanations of who Mr Gold was, but Emma didn't care about any of it. Except for the chill she got when Gold told her to enjoy her stay. It wasn't an entirely bad vibe, but something she'd have to revisit later.

'So, how long will you be with us?' the older woman asked with a smile.

'Uh, I'm not sure.' Emma shifted Roland's weight. 'Just one night, I think. Do you know of any good houses or apartments for sale?'

'You should ask Mr Bore,' the young woman suggested. 'He's the best relater in town, and lives down by the warehouse that makes most of the town's furniture. His brothers work in construction; if anyone knows houses, it's them. You'll find him at the office next to the bakery.'

'Thanks.'

'Here's your key.' The older woman held it out to her. 'Welcome to Storybrooke.'

Emma handed it to Henry, and put Roland down to gather the bags she'd left by the door. Nodding to the women, Emma led her sons up the stairs to their room. Henry unlocked it, and the trio stepped inside. It was simple, with a very flowery pink decor. The bed wasn't very big, but large enough that it would be fine for one night. Henry pulled a face of dislike at the room, while Roland ran ahead and climbed onto the bed.

They'd filled up on snacks on the drive, and could easily bathe in the morning, so Emma dropped onto the other side of the bed. Henry went through their bags to produce the book.

'Read to us,' he pleaded.

'Please, Mama?' Roland added, whose reading wasn't as advanced as Henry's and didn't know much about what the book said.

'Alright.' Emma nodded. 'But first: pyjamas.'

She shrugged out of her jacket and they all kicked off shoes. The boys dressed and joined her on the bed, having fun with the bouncy springs of the mattress. Emma was glad they were tired or else Roland would probably spend half the night using the bed as a trampoline.

Emma propped the book against her knees, and smiled as each boy leaned to her sides. It had been a horrible week and even longer day, but that moment almost made everything right again. She knew the nightmares would still come – for her and them, but things would get better. Nothing started things anew than reading her sons a bedtime story that was going to change their lives.

'Once upon a time...'

* * *

To say it was a rough night would be an understatement.

When the alarm blared Emma from her sleep early the next morning, she considered throwing it at a wall. Feeling a kick to her ribs, she remembered why sharing a bed with two kids never left her feeling restful. That was without considering the nightmares they'd woken with throughout the night.

'The key's got a swan on it,' Henry said, from where he sat at the end of the bed.

Emma forced herself upright and took in the sight of their room. Roland rolled beside her, tugging a sheet over his wayward hair. She turned to her eldest son and wondered how long Henry had been sitting there with the book and their key.

'Uh huh.' Emma yawned into her hand. She walked across the room to the window and pulled back the curtain.

Henry hurried to join her, raising on his toes to get a proper view of their new home. Storybrooke looked a lot more appealing in the daylight. They watched the Sheriff car driving down the street, and spotted Archie walking his dog nearby. There was Mr Gold with his cane, and the two women who ran the inn. Already those faces and names were becoming familiar.

This could work.

'Come on, kid,' Emma tapped Roland's exposed foot, which wriggled back under the covers. 'Time to get up.'

Usually, the three of them were quite okay with getting up early to greet the day. But on nights where little sleep occurred, it was always Roland who struggled to pull himself out of bed until presented with food.

Emma was in no rush, but needed to keep busy. She had to distract her mind with the present, and only the present. She had the boys take a bath and made sure they all dressed in what she hoped made them look as friendly and normal as possible.

'All set?' She finished brushing Roland's hair, and checked the boys over for the fifth time. 'Alright, let's go.'

'We should have a code name,' Henry said, following her down the steps, while Emma led a sleepy Roland by the hand.

'For what?' Emma asked, heading out the back door and over to her car.

'For what we're doing - bringing back the happy endings.' Henry shrugged.

'Uh huh.' She searched for a folder and tucked the papers into her pocket.

'Maybe something cool, like Operation...Viper?'

'Hmm.' Emma noticed she'd parked outside the bakery, only one store from where she needed to be. A rather odd coincidence.

'Mum, are you listening to me?'

'I'm sorry, Henry.' She sighed, turning to face him. 'I just need to talk to a man in here, and after we can get breakfast. You can tell me all about code names and happy endings then, okay?'

'Okay.' He slouched his shoulders.

'Watch your brother.' Emma transferred Roland's hand to Henry's.

Heading into the relator office, she spotted the rounded man with the "Bore" name-tag on his chest, and felt anxious. She was really doing this. All her life she'd never owned a place of residence, and now it was time to put her savings to good use. Richard may have paid their rent back in Boston, but Emma still had money of her own tucked away in her bank account.

'Wait here.' She left the boys by some desks, and approached the bearded man. 'Hey. I'm new here and was wondering if there are any decent houses for sale?'

Emma charmed the relator and was as friendly as she needed to be. It paid off when he revealed there was a beautiful home available within her price range that met all her preferences. Feeling confident, yet surprised by the speed of her success, Emma turned to check on her sons. Roland met her gaze, and swerved around in the chair to face his back to her. He was in a miserable mood and Emma worried he blamed her for it.

'Did you find one?' Henry asked from across the desk near the wall.

'Yeah, I think so.' She nodded, picking at the notices tacked to the cork-board to her left.

Mr Bore returned and offered to show her the house. Emma knew it was only one of three available, and the other two were not to her liking at all.

'It's fine. Where do I sign?'

Emma almost wished she'd bought a house sooner if it was this quick and easy. All her references checked out and she could pay right away, which she assumed helped the process along.

'Congratulations!' Mr Bore smiled. 'Just come by this afternoon and I'll give you the keys.'

'Thanks.' Emma exhaled. 'Who's hungry?' She added to the boys, rejoining them with a wide smile. Henry grinned and hopped off the chair, while Roland ignored them.

'Roland?' Henry nudged him.

The boy turned reluctantly and climbed down, taking Henry's hand and avoiding Emma. She felt a shiver run through her spine at the indifference. He'd only been her son for a bit over a year, and now a new town was a rather big adjustment as well. She hoped they just needed time, not that she'd let down all his hopeful expectations for a family and home of his own. She knew what that felt like.

The group went to the diner and picked a booth by the back. Emma wasn't ready to jump right into getting to know the regulars yet; her brave face and cool attitude was for the benefit of her sons only. Roland sat across from her, shifting as far away as he could, while Henry slid into the space beside him.

'So, code names?' Henry prompted.

'Yeah sure, kid.' Emma picked up the newspaper to skim through it.

She learned the young woman from the inn was named Ruby, as she came to take their orders. Only then did Roland speak up and seem more like himself. She only believed that to be true when their drinks arrived and he offered her his attention again.

'I can't believe you still don't like hot coco and cinnamon.' Henry shook his head at his little brother, who happily sipped his very non-cinnamon chocolate drink.

'It's an acquired taste.' Emma shrugged, looking over their heads to watch the Sheriff and Killian Jones enter. They sat two booths behind the boys, but Killian had his back to them.

'So, I've been thinking about the curse,' Henry said through mouthfuls of pancake. 'How are we supposed to break it if no one remembers who they are?'

'Uh, good question.' Emma ducked her head. 'How do you think curses are broken?'

'I don't know.' Henry shrugged thoughtfully. 'Maybe we should start with something small? A whole town is a lot, so what if we help a few people first and see what happens? We might learn more about how the curse works, and then we can figure out how to break it.'

'Good plan.' Emma nodded, watching a young girl enter the diner dressed in a school uniform. That was another thing she had to work on; Roland was too young for school yet, but Henry...

'Step one: identification. We need to call it something,' Henry continued. 'How about Operation Cobra?'

'Cobra?' Emma repeated. 'That has nothing to do with fairytales.'

'Exactly!'

'I don't like it,' Roland frowned, pushing his plate away. He played with the corner of the newspaper Emma left open, showing the usual ads for furniture discounts and pest control services. It was a picture of the dock that caught his attention.

'Okay.' Henry sighed. 'Well, what do you want to call it?'

'Operation Sea-Lion!' Roland declared.

'That has even less to do with fairytales,' Emma muttered.

She was glad Roland had at least been getting better at identifying animals from his picture books since taking quite a liking to marine life lately. She blamed all the books Moseley showered him with for that, and their trip to the aquarium last month. The horror of Roland running off and being lost for over an hour still gave her nightmares.

'Operation Sea-Lion,' Henry repeated. 'Yeah, it's perfect. Good idea, Roland! That'll throw the Evil Queen off the trail. We should probably find out who she is too, so we know who to avoid. We can't let her find out what we're up to.'

'Right.' Emma nodded, picking at her eggs. 'And how do we do that?'

'I dunno.' He rolled his eyes. 'I don't have all the answers.'

'Who the Hell are you?'

Emma jerked her chin in the direction of the voice. A woman stared at them from beside the counter, joined by the girl in the school uniform. Killian and the Sheriff looked over as well. Emma felt uncomfortably visible.

'Uh...'

'They're new to town,' Killian spoke up. 'Hardly a cause for alarm, Madam Mayor.'

'Is there a problem?' the Sheriff added.

'No.' The woman frowned. 'Not at all.'

Emma read between the lines. She wasn't welcome there at all, at least not by the Mayor herself. As odd as he was, even Mr Gold had been friendlier - and he apparently owned the town.

'And you are...?' Emma asked, as Roland stood on the seat to see over it. Henry slipped off the chair to pick up his fork, but stayed there to watch the scene.

'Regina Mills,' the woman said, losing some of her anger at the sight of the boys. 'The Mayor of this town.'

'Yeah, got that part,' Emma uttered to herself.

'You're staying here?' Regina seemed quite suspicious of their presence.

'Housed and happy.' She nodded. 'Is that a problem?'

'Of course not.' Regina narrowed her eyes. 'Come on, Danielle. We don't want you to be late for school.' She nudged the wavy-haired girl at her side, who Emma thought looked about Henry's age.

'She could be the Evil Queen,' Henry whispered urgently.

'I don't know, kid. Maybe.' Emma sighed, rising from the seat. 'Let's go have a look around the town. We're going to be living here now, so we may as well figure out where everything is.'

'You'll have to excuse the Mayor's charming welcome,' Killian said, joining them at the counter as Emma paid for their meal. 'Strangers aren't known around here.'

'Can't imagine why,' she said sarcastically.

Emma watched the Sheriff leave and glanced Killian over. He was dressed in all black, with the same leather jacket as the previous night. There was something about him that tickled the back of her mind, but Emma couldn't work out why he was so interesting. Apart from being noticeably handsome, of course.

'And today's been quite an odd one,' Killian added.

'Why?' Henry piped in.

'Remember that clock I mentioned never moves?' He raised an eyebrow. 'Well, suddenly now it does.' He headed for the door, and Emma caught up with him in the street outside.

They all turned to the clock, seeing it showed the accurate time of eight in the morning.

'It's true!' Henry gasped.

'What's true, lad?'

'Nothing.' Emma nudged her boys onto the footpath. 'Don't you have work, or something, to get to?'

'You trying to get rid of me, Swan?' Killian teased. 'Here I thought we were having a rather insightful conversation.'

'No.' She rolled her eyes, abruptly forgetting everything she needed to do that day. 'But you must have somewhere to be. Or do you just like following people?'

'Actually, it was you who followed me,' he quipped. 'As a matter of fact, I don't work for anyone.'

'Unemployed?' Emma guessed. 'Well, no wonder, with a dress sense like that...'

'What's wrong with how I dress?' He frowned. 'And no, I run my own business. I only work when I need the money. Which, as it so happens, I don't.'

'Right.' She scoffed.

'Mama?' Roland tugged her shirt.

'Yeah, uh...' Emma shook her head. 'We better...'

'Of course.' Killian nodded, stepping back. 'Well, good luck.'

'Thanks,' she said. 'I think.'

'I suspect our paths will cross again soon anyway.' His smile was infuriatingly smug. 'Since you like to follow me so much.'

'I didn't...Ugh.' Emma rolled her eyes. 'Go...Do whatever you do when you're not earning money you apparently don't need.' She winced at her own words.

Real smooth, she mocked herself.

'As you wish.' Killian gave a brief bow, grinning at her.

Emma wanted to come up with something wittier next time just to smack that smile off his face. His abundance of confidence and charm was not something her sleep-deprived mind wanted to compete with so early at the start of her new life in Storybrooke. He knew her surname as well, though Emma was sure she hadn't given it to him; word spread fast in Storybrooke.

'Who do you think he is?' Henry wondered.

They watched Killian cross the street, his hands once again stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. Mr Gold headed along the path ahead, and Emma instantly noticed the tension. The men watched each other intently as they passed, but while Killian turned away and kept walking – Mr Gold halted to glare at the back of the leather-clad man. The small town life was already proving to be far more complex than she'd imagined. And that made it an even better distraction.

'I don't know,' Emma answered, still watching Killian's retreating form. 'But I'd really like to find out.'

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Awesome points to anyone who guessed what fairytale I had in mind with the realtor, Mr Bore. Also, just to clarify: Henry is 10 and Roland is 4. What do you think of things so far? Any feedback, suggestions or questions are highly appreciated. Updates will be rather regular, but speed may increase if I make more progress than I intended - which is why this one is up early.


	3. First Steps to New Beginnings

_It's my Birthday, but here's a gift for you!_

 **Note:** The house Emma bought in this story is the same one she has in the show (season 5), though I added my own ideas to how many bedrooms there are etc.

* * *

 **First Steps to New Beginnings**

Emma knew Richard had entwined himself into every aspect of her life in the last three years, but in less than one day she'd been forced to see how much.

Sitting on a park bench, while her boys fed the ducks at the shallow edge of the pond, she skimmed through her phone to delete any unwanted trace of her previous life. Her contact list emptied of all the people she'd met through Richard or were closely tied to the man. Emma was disturbed to realise that, apart from Richard himself and Moseley, it meant erasing everyone.

She had no friends of her own, and no other contacts or references that were exclusively hers to know. Not even the few she'd met for lunch before she'd known Richard remained. He'd seeped himself to every corner of her social life. The only one Emma ever truly had was Moseley. Emma longed to ask the woman for advice, and knew she'd never be able to again.

'I'll curse you forever!' Roland declared, chasing Henry around the lush grass between the water edge and where Emma sat.

She pressed "ignore" on yet another of Richard's attempts to call her, and smiled at her boys. Pocketing the phone, Emma was glad the most important people in her life could no longer be hurt by Richard. At least, not directly. With time, when the nightmares faded, the man would be nothing more than a name no longer used.

The fairytales were helping much faster than Emma had hoped.

'And I'll stop you!' Henry yelled back, waving an invisible sword. 'I'm going to break the curse and bring back the happy endings!'

'No!' Roland ran at his brother, who was much faster.

'Heroes always win!' Henry teased, laughing at his brother's attempts to catch up.

'No fair!' Roland whined.

Emma checked the time and exhaled. They'd spent most of the morning walking around town, trying to familiarise themselves with Storybrooke yet avoid too many conversations with the residents. People were naturally curious, and Emma had no desire to talk about her past or why they'd chosen to live in Storybrooke of all places.

Sheriff Graham helped her arrange a meeting at the school to get Henry enrolled. Emma was relieved to have something active to do; spending the whole day with her sons came with a very uncomfortable truth she always pushed aside in her heart and mind. With Moseley gone, there was no one she could leave the boys with when she needed to.

Emma had done that more than she'd ever admit.

She worked long hours during the week, and Henry had school - those were excuses Emma could no longer fall back on. Moseley had kept Roland occupied at her house, then picked Henry up from school. It was a routine Emma had always been keen on. She didn't want to fail at being a mother, and perhaps she'd done exactly that in determination to only tend to her children part-time. Even on the weekends she found something to keep herself away for hours at a time.

She owed so much to Moseley, for her patience and firm nudges in the right direction. Now Emma was on her own, and nothing scared her more. Even while living in Boston for almost ten years, she'd still been running. Watching her boys change roles of the Evil Queen and Prince Charming, Emma knew she had to stop. Storybrooke had to be the change that grounded her for the first time in her life. She owed her sons that much. It was time she put down roots, starting with enrolling Henry in school and picking up the keys to the house she now owned. There was no one left to act as her responsibility buffer; Emma was a full-time mother now, and a part of her wanted to be. Emma had a lot she needed to fix - making sure her boys were safe and happy was her first priority.

She had to give them their best chance, and that meant no more running.

* * *

The school was a lot better than Emma expected of a small town. The headmaster was flustered in his excitement of having a newcomer enrolled at the school, and insisted on overseeing the tour himself. Henry was accepted immediately, making Emma suspicious of the fast-pace of her success in moving into Storybrooke with minimal hurdles on their first day in town.

'I wanna go to school with Henry!' Roland whined the entire visit. He dragged his feet and pulled on Emma's hand for attention. She ignored it, but was determined to get the entire day over with.

'What about uniforms?' Emma asked, watching the last of the students leave the hallways.

The home bell rung moments before they'd arrived, freeing up teachers to talk to and avoiding the energetic children running for their parents.

'The school provides donated uniforms in good condition for new students who enrol mid-term,' the headmaster explained, leading them towards the classroom Henry would be using. 'But if you'd like to buy them new, I can give you directions to the local tailor who sells them.'

'Right.' Emma nodded. 'We'll be staying, so I'd rather buy them new.' She'd spent most of her childhood with second-hand clothes and was going to avoid that with her sons.

'And this is Ms Blanchard's classroom!' the headmaster beamed, pushing open the door to let them pass ahead of him.

Emma liked the partially transparent wall of the classroom, with the forest-like decoration and coloured paper leaves. The room was almost as welcoming as the woman waiting for them inside. Roland whined again and tugged at her hand. Henry, who had barely said a word the entire trip, smiled widely at his soon-to-be teacher.

'Hello,' Ms Blanchard beamed at them, offering her hand for everyone to shake. Emma and Henry obliged, while Roland turned his face away and sulked.

'Sorry,' Emma sighed. 'I've never known a kid who wants to go to school this badly.'

'It's okay,' Ms Blanchard smiled at the boy, then turned to the other. 'You must be Henry Swan?'

'Yeah.' He nodded. 'I like your classroom. It's like a fairytale.' Henry turned and gave Emma a raised-eyebrow look.

'Yes, I suppose it is.' Ms Blanchard looked around.

'There you are!' a voice snapped, turning everyone's attention to the doorway when Regina appeared. Her brown-haired daughter stood at her side, mirroring the scene in the diner earlier that morning.

'Ah, Mayor Mills.' The headmaster shifted, and averted eye contact. 'Is something wrong?'

'What's wrong is I had to search up and down these halls for the headmaster to discuss a very important matter! Shouldn't you be in your office?' Regina scolded, catching sight of Emma with increased annoyance.

'I'm very sorry to hear that, I...' the headmaster shuffled his feet. 'If you'll excuse me, Miss Swan? Miss Lane at the front desk will help you with the papers. I'm sure Ms Blanchard can take it from here?' he said quickly, and fled the room.

'Sure.' Emma shrugged, watching Regina. 'What do you think, Henry?'

Regina turned to leave, but halted when Emma spoke her son's name. The woman stared at Henry with a strange look, prompting Emma to place a hand protectively on his shoulder. Roland waved to Danielle, which the girl happily returned.

'Was there something else, Madam Mayor?' Ms Blanchard asked.

'No,' Regina said, and left with her daughter.

'What's her deal?' Emma asked. 'How did she even get elected?'

'She's been mayor for as long as I can remember.' Ms Blanchard shrugged. 'So, Henry, when will he be joining my class?' Her bright smile returned.

'Uh, Monday.' Emma turned back to the teacher.

With how fast things were already falling into place, she was confident they'd be able to get Henry's school supplies and uniforms with just two days to spare until he was due to start school.

'Do you like apples?' Henry asked.

'Apples?' Ms Blanchard blinked. 'Oh, no. No, I'm not very fond of them. Why?'

'Just wondering.' The boy smiled widely.

'Okay...' Emma said. 'Well, it was nice meeting you.'

'You too.' The teacher nodded, tilting her head slightly. 'Sorry, but have we met before? I just...Have the strangest feeling we have.'

'Nope. First time in Storybrooke.' Emma shrugged, looking away. 'Anyway, thanks again.' She steered her sons from the classroom.

Finding the front desk, she signed the enrolment forms with an air of relief. It felt easier to breathe, now they had a house to live in and Henry was enrolled in school. All that remained was for Emma to find a stable job, and someone to watch Roland during the day.

Things had never been this fast and easy for her, and it made Emma very nervous.

'I know who she is,' Henry said, as they left the redbrick building and made their way to Granny's diner.

'Who, Ms Blanchard?' Emma grabbed Roland's hand to keep him walking when the younger boy dragged his feet again in protest.

'Yeah.' Henry nodded. 'She's your mum. She's Snow White.'

'Whoa, hold on a minute...' Emma halted. 'Snow White?'

'Yeah, I'll show you-'

'Food first.' She interrupted, looking up at the diner. 'It's been a tiring day. The book can wait.'

'But it's her!' Henry insisted. 'I know you've been looking for your parents for a long time, and we just found your mum!'

'I'm not saying I don't believe you.' Emma hesitated. She picked their previous booth by the back and lifted Roland onto the seat. 'Just...That's a lot to take in, Henry. What makes you so sure it's her?'

'Everything.' He stated confidently. 'The birdhouse at the window, the forest wall, the way she looks like her, and the apple.'

'The apple?' Emma raised an eyebrow, indicating for him to sit across from her and look at the menu.

'Yeah, Snow White hates apples,' her son explained, sitting but ignoring the menu.

'Right, because the Evil Queen tried to poison her with one?' She sighed.

It made sense, she supposed, but Emma hadn't taken into account that part of the story. It was easy to play along with everything else as if it was real, but her parents? That was too personal. Henry was so proud and excited about his discovery that Emma couldn't find the strength to deter him from it; she hadn't seen him smile like that in a while.

'You gonna give me the silent treatment all night, kid?' She focused on Roland instead.

'Yes.' He frowned, crossing his arms over the table.

'Hey, what can I getcha?' Ruby asked, approaching their table. The young woman got a pad and pencil from her apron, which Emma noticed was longer than her skirt.

She decided not to comment.

'Is the lasagne any good?' Emma barely glanced at the menu.

'The best in town.'

'Lasagne it is.' She nodded, and waited for Ruby to leave before talking to Henry again. 'We'll get everything you need for school tomorrow. You nervous?'

'A bit.' He exhaled. 'Why didn't my old school have uniforms?'

'I don't know.' Emma noticed people being drawn to the diner window. 'Not all schools do uniforms, I guess.'

The mumble of distant voices was heard all the way to the back of the diner. Even Ruby had gone by the door to see out the window.

'What's going on?' Henry turned to look over his seat. Roland stood to do the same.

'Stay here.' Emma ordered. 'Watch you brother.'

She got up to see what had caught everyone's attention. Not finding a space to stand between the gawkers, Emma stepped outside among the commotion.

'Right, so it's just a coincidence I lost three of my most loyal customers all in one day?' Killian Jones raised his voice.

'Maybe they realised that my merchandise is simply better in quality and price?' Mr Gold returned. He gripped his cane tightly at his side, but spoke in an otherwise calm manner.

'Not bloody likely!' Killian glared at him.

'What's going on?' Emma interrupted.

'Nothing,' Killian growled, keeping his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket.

'If it was nothing, we wouldn't be having this little debate for the spectacle of the town.' Mr Gold said bitterly, turning to Emma with much less venom. 'Miss Swan, was it?'

'Yeah.' Emma nodded. 'Look, whatever you're arguing about – do you mind doing it somewhere else? You're scaring my sons, and we're trying to have dinner.'

'That was not my intention,' Mr Gold said smoothly. 'I see it'll take a better man to leave this debate unresolved - so I bid you goodnight, Miss Swan. I hope your boys enjoy their meal.'

He walked away, leaning on the cane for support, while Killian watched him with such anger Emma worried he was going to chase after Gold.

'What was that all about?' She asked, approaching Killian.

'Nothing of your concern,' he snarled, then exhaled. 'I do apologise for frightening your boys. He came out of nowhere, and I was already having a bad day.'

'It happens.' Emma shrugged. 'Can I go back inside, or do I need to-'

'What's going on?' Sheriff Graham hurried towards them. 'I just got the call.'

'Bit bloody late.' Killian shook his head. 'I'm fine, go back to your boys,' he added to Emma.

'Okay then.' She nodded, turning to leave.

Emma paused in the doorway. Killian angrily explained to Graham that Mr Gold had become increasingly hostile since the clock started working again. She glanced to the clock above the diner counter, and rejoined her sons at their booth.

'Mama?'

'It's okay, Roland.' Emma brushed her hand over his curly-haired head. 'Just a bit of shop talk and town drama. Nothing to worry about.'

'Was anyone hurt?' Henry worried, his face darkening.

'No, everyone is fine.' Emma promised, reaching across the table to hold his hand. 'People just get very worked up over money. Really, it's fine.'

Ruby chose that moment to bring their food, and the boys eagerly accepted the diversion. Emma smiled at the young woman, who nodded. The diner door swung open, as Killian and Graham headed for a booth nearby. She watched them for a while, barely showing any interest in her own food, and pondered the strange confusion she experienced.

Emma circled back to Ms Blanchard's question if they'd met before, and Henry telling her his new teacher was her mother. They were too close in age for it to be possible, but Emma couldn't deny she'd felt it too. The woman was familiar in ways Emma couldn't quite work out; they'd met for the first time today, yet somehow Emma knew her. She lowered her gaze to Henry, who was promising Roland he'd miss him while at school every day, and decided to see how things turned out.

Moseley's absolute belief in magic could not be shaken.

Feeling her phone buzz, Emma saw Richard was once again attempting to contact her. Frustrated, she firmly told her kids to stay in their seats, and hurried out the front door of the diner.

Checking no one was around, she accepted the call.

'Don't you answer your phone?' Richard's voice shouted at her.

'I just did.' Emma sat heavily in a chair, the anger and hopelessly creeping through her just at hearing the man's voice again.

'I heard about that woman being stabbed,' Richard said. 'Then you just took the boys and left? Where are you?'

'You kicked us out, what do you care?' Emma growled, her stomach churning at the memory of Moseley laying bloody on the floor. 'That'll be a first.'

'Come back, Em.' He paused. 'I was angry. I didn't mean to say those things.'

'Like you didn't mean to hit my kid?' She shook with emotion.

The man was more worried about the words they'd exchanged than the harm he'd caused a ten-year-old boy. It would be a long time before she forgot the sound of the slap and look on Henry's face when it happened.

'It was a mistake!' Richard's voice raised again, with the same glass-shivering tone Emma hated.

It felt like he was standing in front of her, yelling in ways that snuffed out her own value and control. She couldn't yell back this time - others would hear her just as they'd heard Killian and Mr Gold.

'No.' Emma refused to back down.

She was free – he couldn't find them in Storybrooke, and wouldn't even think to look. Richard's power was only in his words now.

'A mistake is locking yourself out of the apartment because you lost the keys. A mistake is forgetting the pay the phone bill, or missing an appointment.' Emma's throat ached with the effort to keep her voice level.

She remembered throwing him from the apartment, and the way he'd grabbed her wrist so tightly Emma knew a bruise was still concealed under her sleeve. Was that a mistake too?

'You have a temper, and you lashed out at a child. You can't lose control like that and just brush it off as an accident. You hurt him! I am never letting you near my sons again. I never should have let you in our lives at all – THAT was a mistake.'

'Em, c'mon – you need me. I know you do.' He tried again. 'Look, let's just talk okay? We can talk about this. I'll buy the kid a toy or something and he'll forget all about it.'

'We never talk.' Emma hung her head, brushing her hand up to keep the hair from falling over her face. 'You're never going to see us again. We've moved on. And you're wrong, I don't need you. I've never needed you.'

'Yes, you do! You wouldn't even have that second brat if it wasn't for me!'

The biting truth wasn't enough for Emma to stay on the phone. She reminded him it was over, and hung up. Her entire form was shaking. Emma brushed back the sleeve of her left arm, to see if the bruise really was there as a bitter reminder, and swallowed at the sight of the purple mark. It happened in the struggle to get him out of the apartment, but represented how batted she'd felt inside. Emma still did, but being in Storybrooke made Boston feel worlds away.

She was emotionally in chains, but physically free.

Hearing a gasp, she hastily dropped her sleeve. Killian stood there, staring at her wrist, with his hands at his sides. Emma didn't try to explain or ask how long he'd been there, as her gaze fell to his left hand. Or where it should be and instead ended with a brace.

Emma met his blue eyes, shadowed by the setting sun, and saw the shame in his face as he hastily concealed his brace.

At least bruises faded.

'How long were you standing there?' Emma was too surprised to be angry with him. 'How much did you hear?'

'Not much.' He shrugged, averting his eyes as he scratched behind his ear with his one hand.

'So basically everything?' Emma groaned.

Her fight sapped, she shoved her phone away and kicked aside the chair. She should be furious at him for eavesdropping, and that Richard had tainted the success she'd been having all day. He was miles away and still making everything sour.

'Aye.' Killian shrugged. 'You...Want to talk about it?'

'Hell no.' Emma scoffed. 'You want to talk about what happened with Gold?'

'Point taken.' He narrowed his eyes angrily, looking to the spot where the argument had taken place.

Emma didn't know how to ask him not to tell anyone what he'd heard.

The one thing she did know about small towns was how easily news spread like a wildfire, which had already been proven with how everyone knew her by name in such a short time. All the people who smiled and welcomed her would change their minds if they knew the truth about her past. Emma and her sons would be outcasts on their first day. She'd be seen as weak, and couldn't risk that. She had to prove she could do this, and make sure her sons had their best chance.

'Look, what you heard was private,' she snapped at him. 'So if you feel like a gossip-'

'Swan, calm down.' Killian frowned. 'You and I may not know each other very well, but I think you'll find we're a lot more alike than you might realise. And I'm not one for gossip.'

'We're alike?' Emma scoffed. 'How?'

She swallowed when he came closer, his steps slow and deliberate until he was inches from her face. He stared right into her eyes with daring confidence, yet Emma didn't feel he was intruding too far into her space. He was close enough to make her uneasy, but not threatened.

No stranger had achieved that before.

'Tell me, love, how long have you been running?' he asked in a deeper tone that sent shivers across her skin. She refused to show it. 'I know that look. What are you really doing here, in Storybrooke?'

'Moving on,' Emma answered, forcing herself to keep eye contact. 'Not that it's any of your business.'

'And yet, you're still running.' He stepped back. 'Still waiting for a fight. With good reason, I gather.'

Killian looked to her phone. It buzzed from receiving a text, and Emma roughly snatched it from the table. She shoved it into her jacket pocket and glared at the man who knew too much.

'You don't know me.'

'That I don't.' Killian shrugged. 'But you're an open book, Swan. And like I said, I know that look.'

'How?' She snapped, but saw it.

His eyes were deeper than others, filled with more emotion and longing. For what, she didn't know, but Emma could see something haunted him too. She could read the pain painted blue in his eyes, and it was familiar.

'Your boys are probably wondering where you went,' Killian said, breaking eye contact to stare at his boots. 'I won't say a word.'

'Right.' Emma nodded, exhaling a slow breath. 'Thank you.' She walked around him to the door, pausing to compose herself before pushing it open. His voice halted her and she didn't dare turn back.

'I may not know you, Swan,' he said. 'But perhaps I'd like to.'

Emma let the door shut behind her. Sinking into her seat at the booth with her sons, she glanced around the diner but nothing had changed. No one stared or questioned, and just continued their meals and chatter about mundane town stuff. Sheriff Graham was at the counter paying a bill, then headed outside where Killian was presumably waiting for him.

'Mum?' Henry questioned. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine.' Emma nodded, still watching the door. 'I'm always fine.'

~ O ~

Finishing their ice cream dessert (Roland's favourite), Emma took the boys upstairs to pack their bags. They turned in their room key to Granny, and went to collect the new house keys from Mr Bore. After loading their bags back into the yellow bug, Emma drove them to the address she'd been given for the house. Parking at the curb outside their new home, she felt a spark of mingled excitement and fear shoot through her.

This house was where her sons would grow up.

'It looks like a castle!' Roland delighted, jumping out of the car. He hurried to the white picket fence, and pushed open the gate.

Henry ran alongside him to the wide steps leading onto the front porch.

'Mum, c'mon!' Henry waved from the front door, while Roland fidgeted beside him.

Emma huffed as she slammed the car door, and headed to join her boys. Her hands shook as she raised the key to the lock, and turned. Hearing the click, she barely had time to register the milestone in her life as her sons barrelled into the house yelling about picking their rooms and wondering how big the backyard was.

Emma stepped into the house, holding her breath as she counted to three.

Looking around, she exhaled and allowed herself a smile. It was a very open house, with walls only were absolutely necessary. The dining table was by the front window, with four chairs around the table. A second table was in the kitchen. Two wide doors, which Henry unlocked and yanked open, led to the lush green yard outside. It was impressively well-fenced for security and privacy, which Emma was glad to see.

Passing the staircase and small living room, she went to watch her boys run around the backyard. They looked so happy and free. All her nerves about finally owning a house faded in that exact moment when Henry and Roland sprawled out on the grass, laughing and giggling at nothing in particular.

'What do you think?' she asked.

'I love it!' Roland announced. 'It's the best ever!'

'Yeah!' Henry agreed, jumping up. 'I can't wait to see my room.'

'Me too! Me too!' Roland scurried to join his brother in running back inside.

Emma quickly leaned against the door-frame to avoid her sons, as they blurred by her and raced up the stairs. With a sigh and smile, she closed the double doors and went back to the car for their bags.

For three years she'd been stuck in a place too small and confined. Richard's presence smothered their freedom, and Emma was unnerved by just how much. In their new home in Storybrooke, they had more than just a yard and extra space; they had a chance to be happy. No matter what town drama went on, or the nightmares that crept from the shadows of their memories, inside that house they were safe.

They were free.

Dropping a box by the front door, Emma turned to the stairs and hesitated. Another yell sounded from above, and she went to make sure they weren't initiating combat over which room they wanted. Halting at the bottom step, she noticed the basement door beside the underneath of the stairs was heavily padlocked.

Frowning, she stored that observation for later and hurried up the stairs.

'I'm older, I should get to pick first!' Henry was yelling.

'That's not fair!' Roland whined back, shoving his brother.

'Hey,' Emma frowned. 'Hey, hey!' She jumped forward when their scuffle nearly toppled Roland over. She pressed a hand on each boy's chest to keep them separated, and Henry shoved her away to storm back downstairs.

Roland crossed his arms and sulked to sit on the top step.

'Boys,' Emma exhaled, shaking her head.

She looked around the landing, seeing the open bathroom door at the far right and a corner leading to stairs at the opposite end. In between were two doors, which she peered into. The right one was a rather plain bedroom, and the second a larger one she thought Henry would really like. Up the stairs was an attic room on one end and the main bedroom at the other.

Roland was right; it was quite like a small castle.

Not wanting to spend the entire night looking around the rooms, Emma went back downstairs to resume bringing in all their luggage. She managed to get Henry to help her, while Roland stayed at the top step of the stairs.

'We should try to get Ms Blanchard to remember she's Snow White,' Henry said, dragging his suitcase across the living room. 'Since she's family.'

'Uh, one step at a time, kid.' Emma winced. 'Let's take that one slow, okay?'

'Why?'

'Well, because...' Emma rubbed her forehead. 'Because I said so. If she is...Snow White, then it's a lot to deal with. I'm not ready, yet.'

'Okay.' Henry ducked his head. 'Well, who else is there?'

'What about Killian Jones?' She'd tried to stop thinking about him, but the man kept appearing in her mind. The brace, the way he's said they were alike...He was very interesting in a mysterious way that Emma simply couldn't shake.

'Hmm, I'm not sure.' Henry shrugged. 'He doesn't look like anyone in the book.'

'There must be someone.'

'Mama?' Roland came down the stairs. 'Does Henry get to pick a room first 'cuz he's older?'

'No,' she replied, ignoring Henry's protest. 'How do you know you'll want the same room? There's three to choose from.'

'Okay!' Roland turned and ran up the stairs.

Henry dumped the bag he was carrying to chase after his brother, leaving Emma with a pile of luggage and no one to help her sort it out.

'Okay.' She rolled her eyes. 'Just me then.'

Emma turned on the spot to take in the well-lit space of the lower floor. There was so much potential, but even with various furniture and a messy stack of boxes it was missing something.

Disregarding the feeling, Emma went out to the car for the last box. She locked it up and looked around the dark street. While glancing at the lights of the other houses, Emma halted at the rustling of bushes. She scanned the area for any danger but it was just a dog. No, not a dog...A wolf.

It stared at her with mismatched eyes, as if trying to communicate something. Emma could only stand there, staring back at the creature she was sure shouldn't be there.

'Mama, have you seen my bear?' Roland called to her from the porch, startling Emma.

'Yeah, it's in the box in the kitchen.' She watched him return to the safety of the house before focusing on the wolf again. It was gone, leaving an eerie sensation in her chest. The curtain of a house across the street fluttered, and Emma quickly retreated back inside her own.

It wasn't fear that gripped her, but a sense of purpose she felt ill-equipped for.

Emma looked at the box in her arms, and saw the storybook sitting on top of it. That's not where Henry had left it. Glancing back to the locked front door, Emma realised the wolf was a message.

She dropped the box and grabbed the book, letting it fall open to a random page. It was Snow White walking through the forest with a lantern raised by her face. Emma backed into the kitchen and sank into the nearest chair. It was just a story, she reminded herself, staring at the familiar green eyes of Snow White.

It couldn't possibly be real, could it?


	4. Finding Their Way

**Note:** As this story does progress within the show's time-line, there will be scenes and dialogue based on the episode/s a chapter takes place during. That material I obviously do not own, so all disclaimer to that.

* * *

 **Finding Their Way**

'Mum!' Henry whined, pulling away from her as she tried to fix his collar again.

'Sorry.' Emma huffed, holding her hands up in surrender. 'Does it fit okay?'

'It fits perfectly,' he said, buttoning his white shirt in front of the mirror. 'And I can dress myself.'

'Okay, okay.' Emma rolled her eyes. 'Breakfast in five.'

She headed down the stairs, leaving Henry to finish getting ready for his first day at Storybrooke Elementary. He looked so much older in his uniform, and she wasn't prepared for that.

At least Roland hadn't seemingly grown overnight yet.

'Good pancakes?' she asked, brushing a hand over her youngest son's curly hair as she passed around him to the kitchen counter.

The four-year-old nodded, finishing his last bite. He drank his glass of juice, holding it with both hands, while Emma stood nearby with a cloth just in case. Roland put the glass down very carefully and offered her a wide smile. His sad brown eyes revealed the lingering sting of Richard's harsh comments about the boy's clumsiness.

Emma finished packing Henry's lunch, and tucked the box into the red backpack. Leaving it on the table for him to grab when he was ready to go, Emma wondered how she was going to spend the entire day with just Roland. Sitting on a park bench while the boy fed ducks for hours would be boring. And it allowed too much time to think, while avoiding Richard's persistent texts and unanswered calls.

'I don't want to be the new kid,' Henry complained, dragging himself down the stairs and over to the table in the kitchen to sit beside Roland. 'Everyone's going to be staring at me and asking questions.'

'Sorry, kid,' Emma said. 'I can't save you from that, but it'll wear off in a few days. Just keep things simple, like we practised.'

'Right.' The boy nodded. 'I'm Henry Swan. I used to live in Boston, but we wanted a change and moved here. I have a mum and little brother. I like books and animals.' Henry recited, ticking each off with this fingers.

'See? You got this.' Emma kissed his forehead. 'Now eat up – you don't want to be late on you first day.'

She retreated to the living room while her boys finished their breakfast and talked about Henry's first day of school. Roland still wasn't happy he couldn't go too, and Henry was very good at distracting his brother by complaining about homework and school uniforms.

Emma kept her distance from the boys until they were ready to head out the door. She needed to prepare herself for being around all the other parents dropping their kids off as well. She had to blend in, as if she knew what she was doing. Being a mother full-time was a newer concept for Emma, and she refused to let anyone know that.

Still anxious about the haste they'd left Boston to get away from Richard and everything else there that made them miserable, Emma wasn't prepared to put Henry on the school bus route yet. She decided to walk him to school for his first day, even if it was all the way across town. They had enough time, and she wanted the boys to become more familiar with their new home. Not being near the school was the only downside to their new address, but Emma liked being in close range to the park, Sheriff station, and beach.

'What if no one likes me?' Henry worried, holding her hand to cross the street to pass by Granny's diner.

'Someone will.'

Emma tried to be encouraging, but Henry didn't have any real friends back in Boston either. He was very quiet and read books instead of talking to the other kids. She hoped that would change without the dark cloud Richard cast over their lives Storybrooke was much smaller - Henry should have less chance of becoming invisible there than in the city.

'And I like you,' Roland added, moving around Emma to hold Henry's hand instead.

'Thanks, Roland.' Henry smiled, stopping to look up at the redbrick school building. 'Well, this is it.' He exhaled shakily.

'You'll be fine.' Emma gave him a hug, quickly fixing his collar before he let go. 'The first day is always the hardest - after that, you'll wonder what you were so worried about.'

'Okay.' He nodded, turning to approach the school.

'Good luck, Henry!' Roland waved.

Emma just stood there, watching her little boy enter the school grounds dressed in his new uniform. Ms Blanchard spotted him and seemed to take Henry under her wing, which Emma was relieved to see. Henry stopped at the doors to turn back and wave, then vanished within the building to join the energetic group of kids heading to class.

'And then there were two,' she muttered, looking down at Roland.

Her conversion to being a full-time mother had officially begun.

~ O ~

The morning passed by very slowly.

Emma and Roland walked around town for a while, then headed back to the house to finish unpacking. When both got bored with that, they had lunch at Granny's and wondered how Henry was doing at school.

Feeling she was getting the hang of spending long hours with her son, Emma took Roland to the beach. She always enjoyed the sight of the ocean, and living so close to one gave her a place of calm to retreat to. Emma knew that was going to come in handy.

'Look, a castle!' Roland ran ahead to a wooden playground.

Emma didn't have time to worry how unstable it looked, as her son was already climbing up to sit on a ledge with his boots dangling over. With a sigh, she joined him, and rested the storybook on her lap.

'How does Prince Charming always find Snow White?' Roland wondered, peering at the pages of the story she read to him.

'Because it's true love.' Emma shrugged. 'No matter where he goes, sooner or later, she'll be there too. Their hearts will always find the other.'

'Wow.' Roland smiled, leaning closer to touch the picture of Prince Charming giving Snow White a kiss in the glass coffin.

Emma looked to the distance and saw a dark figure standing at the docks. How long had Killian been standing there, just staring out at the ocean? Even from far away, she had the impression he was searching the waves for something long since beyond his reach.

'Come here.' Emma hopped down from the wooden castle, and held her arms out for Roland to jump into her embrace.

Leading him by the hand across the beach, with the book tucked under her other arm, Emma headed for the docks. Killian didn't move when they approach, other than to tilt his head in their direction.

'I wonder if Graham would classify this as stalking, Swan,' he said, laced with amusement.

'Hardly. I saw you from the playground, and thought we'd come say hello.' She rolled her eyes.

Killian turned properly to give Roland his attention. The boy moved closer to Emma's side, but offered the man a wave and shy smile.

'You other boy is at school, I presume?' Killian asked, dropping his hands to his side.

'First day.' Emma nodded. 'We'll be picking him up soon, but-'

'Where's your hand?' Roland interrupted, staring at Killian's brace.

'Roland!' She frowned, pretending not to notice the way Killian quickly tucked his brace from sight. 'That's not polite.'

'Why not?' Roland returned her expression. He may not be biologically related to Emma, but she still got shivers at how easily the boy could mimic her.

'It's alright, Swan,' Killian stepped forward, crouching to Roland's eye level. 'The lad's merely curious.' He slowly brought his brace to the front, showing the boy.

'It's gone!' Roland released Emma's hand and moved closer to Killian, staring at the black brace with amazement.

Killian's shoulders slackened, and she felt proud of her son's curiosity rather than disgust.

'Yeah, that it is.' He frowned.

'What happened to it?' Roland seemed to forget his mother was there, as he carefully reached to touch the brace.

Emma wanted to step in; Killian looked rather uncomfortable - she knew he was ashamed of it, and probably didn't want Roland asking questions or being so close. Yet the man stayed crouched in front of her son, and answered his questions.

'It happened a long time ago,' Killian shrugged.

It conjured a strange feeling in Emma's chest, watching the man interact with her little boy. Killian showed more tolerance for her son in that small moment than Richard had in all the years she'd been with him.

Roland rested his palm against the brace and glanced intently at Killian's face. The man stared back, and Emma shivered at the intensity of their non-verbal exchange. The boy lowered his brown eyes to the brace again, and smiled.

'Did a crocodile eat it?' Roland asked eagerly.

'Uh, I don't...' Killian blinked at Emma, confused. 'A crocodile, lad?'

'Yeah, a crocodile!'

'Swan?' He stood, raising an eyebrow at her.

'It's...never mind.' Emma glanced at the book she held, and wondered why the story of Peter Pan wasn't in it.

'He's Captain Hook!' Roland grinned up at her with his cutest dimples. 'He likes the ocean and is missing a hand. He has to be.'

'Captain Hook, aye?' Killian shook his head, biting back a smile. 'Quite the imagination your lad has, Swan.'

'Well, you do look like a pirate.' She shrugged, eyeing his black leather longer than she should have.

She didn't want him to be Captain Hook. From what she remembered of the Peter Pan story, Captain Hook was the villain. This intriguing man, who said they were so alike, could not be a villain.

'I do have a hook.' Killian got a silver hook from his pocket. 'I don't use it unless I need the tool. I find it tends to scare the children. Well, most of them.' He looked at Roland, who was more excited than he'd been Christmas morning the previous year.

'You just happen to have a hook in your pocket?' Emma frowned.

'Not always,' he said. 'But it helps with my work.'

'Right, the job you don't have to do for the money you don't need?'

'That's the one.' Killian smirked.

Looking at her watch, Emma sighed. She finally found something interesting to occupy her time with, and she had to get Henry from school. Bidding Killian a brief goodbye, she tugged Roland away and headed back towards the town while the man said they'll probably meet up again soon anyway.

'You always end up finding me!' Killian called over, as Roland waved to him.

Emma tensed at the wording, and wished she'd stayed away from the man. Roland was in a very good mood, and pulled at her arm to make her walk faster. He was eager to talk to Henry, and Emma wanted to delay that.

~ O ~

Henry had news of his own.

Emma convinced Roland to wait until they got to Granny's diner, as planned, before he shared his "discovery" with Henry. Both boys were in a good mood on the walk to the diner, but each remained very quiet until they were already settled with their hot cocos and the book Emma brought with them.

'So, how was your first day?' She broke the silence.

'It was okay.' Henry shrugged. 'Ms Blanchard took us to the hospital so we could cheer up some of the patients. We made pictures and told stories. It was cool.'

He went quiet again, flipping through the book until he reached a page that made him smile. Roland leaned over his shoulder to look at it curiously, while Emma braced herself.

'There's a man in a coma. He's all alone, and no one else knows who he is. Ms Blanchard didn't recognise him either, but I did.' Henry turned the book around to show her. 'He's your father, Prince Charming.'

Emma inhaled a breath and knew she should handle it better than the Snow White discovery, which was still on her mind. She gripped the book and looked at the man pictured, listening warily to Henry's words.

'See the scar? He has one too.' Henry pointed to the man's chin. 'The curse must be keeping them apart, so now they're stuck without each other.'

'I wanna see!' Roland reached for the book, which Emma gladly handed over.

The boys idolised Prince Charming, so she wasn't too surprised by Henry's discovery. Supposedly finding her parents after only a few days in Storybrooke, however, wasn't something Emma wanted to focus on. They should be figuring out who Pinocchio or Cinderella were, not someone she could have any personal connection to.

'We have to tell Ms Blanchard,' Henry added. 'She needs to know!'

'Henry, hold on.' Emma sighed. 'Telling someone their...soul-mate is in a coma probably isn't helpful. Not having a happy ending is painful enough. And she doesn't even know about the curse.'

'She doesn't remember,' Henry corrected.

'Right.' Emma nodded. 'But there's a good chance she won't believe us if we tell her.'

'But what if I'm right?' He frowned, crossing his arms over the table. 'We have to try.'

'They're true love,' Roland said. 'They always find each other.'

'Exactly,' Henry insisted. 'We know who they are, now they have to know.'

'And how do we make that happen?' Emma asked. 'Without sounding crazy?'

'By reminding them.' Henry said. 'We have to get Ms Blanchard to read their story to John Doe. Then maybe she'll remember who he is.'

Emma leaned back in the chair, staring ahead and seeing her entire plan crumble before her eyes. Operation Sea-Lion was supposed to be their secret – a way to distract the boys and give them hope until they could move on with their lives free of nightmares and heart-ache. Things were going too far with the curse, with both Henry and Roland determined to help the people remember who they were.

She took the book back and flipped through it, buying herself time to think.

There was no sign of Peter Pan's story in there, but everything seemed to link to her supposed parents in some way. Maybe the book was more about their story, and that's why others weren't in it? She stared at Snow White's face again and struggled. Magic couldn't be real. No matter how strange things had been lately, Emma couldn't comprehend Moseley's change of heart without considering the possibility of it being true.

She turned another page, stopping to look at a picture of Snow White with Red Riding Hood. Even she looked familiar.

'Anything else I can get you?' Ruby asked, approaching to gather their empty cups.

'No, thanks.' Emma said, looking at the young woman then back to the page.

Snapping the book shut, Emma didn't know what to do. Killian handled it rather well when Roland called him Captain Hook, but they never mentioned a curse or the Evil Queen. Telling Henry's teacher about the situation could be a very bad idea. But what if it was true? What if, in some crazy way she didn't understand, the curse was actually real in some tangible form?

There were too many things she had a hard time ignoring, and she'd checked the book – there were no publication details or any sign that it was just a random book picked up by a desperate woman trying to save her son. Roland's birth mother had shoved it into her hands, pleading with her to have an open mind. She told Emma it had the answers she'd need one day. The woman was so convinced, just like Moseley.

'Okay.' She finally nodded to the boys. 'Fine. We'll tell Ms Blanchard, but we do this my way.'

'Yes!' Roland grinned.

'Good.' Henry ducked his head. 'Because I asked her to meet us.' He looked behind them and shifted in his seat.

Emma frowned at him, but turned to see Ms Blanchard approach. Exchanging a few awkward greetings, they moved to sit at a booth where there was more room for the four of them.

'I know this is probably going to sound crazy, but please hear us out,' Emma said, pushing the book across the table to the woman.

'Oh.' Ms Blanchard said with surprise.

'You've seen this before?' Emma stared.

'I think so.' She nodded. 'A very long time ago. I don't even remember when. There was...A woman. She...' Ms Blanchard shook her head, and Henry grinned at her.

'Where did you get it?' Emma asked.

'Um, it was in my closet,' the teacher shrugged. 'One day, it was just there. How did you get it?'

'It was a gift.'

Emma wasn't going to tell anyone about Roland's adoption or his birth mother. The woman was so scared of being found and Emma would never risk that. She also kept her promise in loving the boys both as her sons, without differentiating based on adoption or birth. She had to make sure the town did the same - by never allowing them to suspect, even for a second, that she hadn't given birth to Roland.

'That proves it,' Henry told them. 'She found it in her wardrobe. She was looking for-'

'Okay, one thing at a time,' Emma interrupted, feeling discomfort in the pit of her stomach.

'Right.' Henry turned to Ms Blanchard, while Roland explored the pages of the book for more clues. 'The first thing you need to know is that everything in this book actually happened...'

Emma remained quiet while Henry eagerly told his teacher about the curse and her Prince Charming. The woman was still there, listening.

'Ms Blanchard-'

'Mary Margaret.' She smiled at Emma.

'Okay, Mary Margaret, I know this is asking a lot but just humour us, okay?' Emma leaned forward, staring at the other woman's very similar green eyes, pleading her not to think they were crazy. 'We just want to help John Doe.'

'By having me read to him?'

'Yes.' Henry nodded. 'Because you're Snow White and he's Prince Charming.'

Emma winced when Mary Margaret went very quiet. She peered over Roland's shoulder at the book and smiled.

'Curse or no curse, I can see this is very important to you,' Mary Margaret said. 'To believe even in the possibility of a happy ending is a powerful thing.'

'Will you help us?' Roland looked up at her.

'Yes.' She smiled. 'I'll help.'

'You don't think we're crazy?' Henry asked.

'Crazy?' Mary Margaret laughed. 'No. I don't know that I believe in magic, but I do believe in hope. No matter who he might be, if reading to John Doe could help him then of course I'll try my best.'

'Awesome!' Henry grinned.

Emma blinked at the three faces smiling at her. She could hardly believe it herself - Mary Margaret was willing to help and didn't judge them for talking about curses and Prince Charming. Emma wondered if the other woman somehow understood why Emma was doing this; why she let her sons believe so strongly in magic.

Hope was everything they needed right now.

Emma retrieved the book and overturned it. She ripped out several pages from the end, then offered the book to Mary Margaret.

'You'll need this,' she said. 'Good luck.'

* * *

Emma couldn't sleep.

She lay stiffly on her back, staring up at the ceiling lit by her bedside lamp, and tried to will herself to sleep. Apart from a few theatrics over Roland's misplaced stuffed elephant, it had been a very quiet night. Emma wasn't used to quiet nights. Without Richard coming home drunk, or chasing down someone who skipped bail, Emma had forgotten what quiet nights were like. Even growing up in the foster system had robbed her of such normal occurrences.

Rolling onto her side, Emma faced the pages she'd torn from the book earlier. They sat scattered on the second pillow, with the top one taunting her the most. Giving up on sleep, Emma reached to hold the last page closer to her face. It was of Prince Charming placing his newborn daughter into the wardrobe – the baby wrapped in a blanket with "Emma" embroidered on it. Her own baby blanket was piled beside her; a perfect match. She'd been comparing it to the one in the picture, feeling more at unease than before about the curse.

Hearing a sound outside, Emma shot upright and looked around. She gathered the pages and tucked them into her bedside drawer. Rushing to the window, she overlooked the dark street lit by the occasional streetlight, and saw the wolf watching her.

It stood beside her bins, waiting.

A chill coursing through her, Emma grabbed a red leather jacket from her closet and slipped it on. She checked in on Roland and Henry, relieved both boys were sound asleep. Emma made sure all the windows were shut and doors locked, before stepping out the front door. She locked it, and tucked the key into her pocket. Quickly putting on a pair of boots, Emma kept the wolf in sight. It was a wild animal, so she was very careful – yet something about its presence felt as though the creature was trying to tell her something. The mismatched eyes shone into her gaze, but Emma kept her distance.

The wolf turned to walk away.

Glancing back at the house, Emma decided to follow it. She headed along the right end of the street, where the beach soon came into view under the starry sky. She left the road and crossed the sand, looking around for the wolf. The paw-prints faded and the creature was gone. She could see the outline of the castle playground she'd sat with Roland earlier that day. Looking to the docks, Emma decided to take the opportunity presented to her.

It was a risky venture to the docks in the dark. Emma wished she'd brought a light source with her, but hadn't thought she'd be out for more than a few minutes – or that she'd be blindly crossing a stretch of sand. Reaching the docks, she shivered at the night air and how eerie the water looked. Seeing a bench, she sat cross-legged on it and exhaled a long breath of relief. Emma hadn't realised she'd needed a break until that moment.

Being away from people and responsibilities felt freeing. She didn't have to put a mask on for anyone out by the docks – not the townspeople, and not her own kids. Henry and Roland needed her to be strong and adaptable, but Emma hated the pressure of maintaining that image all the time. She wanted to find someone to babysit Roland while Henry was at school, and get a job she could keep herself busy with.

Killian was right: she was still running.

'You're quite persistent, Swan.'

Emma jumped up and faced the voice a safe distance away, frowning at Killian Jones for interrupting her peace. He raised an eyebrow at her, slowly approaching with his hand up as if to signal he was unarmed. Emma glanced to the brace at his side and bit back a smile of irony.

'I was here first,' she said, moving to sit back down.

'Aye.' Killian hesitantly sat beside her, keeping enough space between them. 'But I've never seen anyone else at the docks during the night.'

'I just needed some air.' Emma sighed, and realised how it might look.

She fidgeted and wondered if she should explain how close-by she lived, and that the boys were safely asleep in the locked house. What would he think of her being out by the docks while her children slept? Was that sign of bad parenting? Emma didn't know, but didn't want to take the chance.

'I live just over there.' She pointed aimlessly to the streets further off to the right in the distance. 'They're asleep. Safe.'

She waited for the judgements and disapproval, especially with how much he already knew about her. He'd overheard at least most of the conversation she'd had with Richard, so he would know she hadn't been able to protect Henry.

Killian nodded and focused on the water. She relaxed and verbally exhaled, tensing when he glanced at her. Emma's walls went up and her mask slipped on, yet being around him made them feel more transparent than she was comfortable with.

'Do you often hang around the docks at night?' Emma tried conversation instead.

'Not every night,' he answered, watching the sloping water. 'Only on the ones I can't sleep. Why are you out here, Swan?'

Emma almost blurted out that she'd followed a wolf to the beach, but she doubted anyone would believe that. Wolves weren't common around these parts, were they? What sort of a person followed a wolf late at night, anyway? She was beginning to question her own sanity.

'Couldn't sleep.' She shrugged instead. 'It's too quiet.'

'Where did you live before here?'

'Boston.' Emma shivered, pretending it was the cool night air. 'How long have you lived in Storybrooke?'

'As long as I can remember.' Killian frowned, leaning back on the bench.

He rested his brace on his leg and frequently shifted it away from her. Emma tried not to stare, but she kept thinking about how vague he'd been about it earlier. He kept it hidden in the pockets of his leather jacket most of the time, with shame. She carried her burdens and past within her, but Killian's was there in physical form for all to see.

'You don't have to hide it, you know,' she told him, indicating to the brace when he looked at her. 'It's okay.'

'It makes people uncomfortable.' He averted his eyes.

'Not me.'

Killian met her eyes, and even with only moonlight and street-lights overhead, Emma could see the blue of his gaze. His eyes were dangerous – she could easily get lost in them.

She could also see he didn't believe her.

'Really.' Emma carefully reached over to place her palm to the brace, mirroring Roland's action earlier. 'It doesn't bother me.'

Killian moved his hand over her sleeve, inching it up to reveal the bruise across her wrist. Hastily withdrawing, Emma glared at him for taking advantage of the moment to do that.

'Apologies, Swan,' Killian said softly. 'I had hoped I'd imagined things.'

'You didn't,' she said bitterly.

'I wondered why anyone would want to move to Storybrooke.' He shrugged. 'Now I know.'

'Now you know,' Emma repeated.

There were questions to be asked and answered, but neither said another word.

They sat together on the bench, watching the soothing movements of the ocean, with a quietness unlike the one Emma struggled with in the safety of her own bed. It wasn't the absence of sound when she sat with Killian, but rather a peaceful ambience she felt more than heard. Maybe the curse was real, and maybe he was a pirate long ago, but Emma wanted to know more about Killian Jones. She wanted to know how they kept bumping into each other, and why this strange man could look at her and see so much more than others.

Not even Richard ever looked at her quite the way Killian did. He observed and listened, living up to his previous words that he'd like to know her. It should terrify her.

'I should get back.' Emma rose from the bench, rethinking her decision to sit isolated in the dark with a man she'd met only a few days ago.

'Swan.' His hand intentionally circled around her good wrist, just enough to stop her. Emma swallowed at how gentle the action was. 'Why does your boy think I'm Captain Hook?'

'You have to ask?' She tried to brush it off.

'Aye.' He nodded. 'I may have hook for a hand, but I'm hardly a villain with a pirate ship.'

'Maybe Captain Hook isn't really a villain?' Emma shrugged, slipping her wrist free. 'Maybe he's just someone who lost his way?' She met his eyes, seeing the same reflecting look her own often carried.

'And how would one find their way?' Killian asked tiredly. 'With one hand and no ship?'

Emma smiled at him. She wanted to believe in him - the only person she'd met who seemed to really understand the things she couldn't put into words. His eyes reflected a deep hurt inside, yet he wore masks as she did. Most people wore masks to trick and deflect, and Emma had her fair share of those. Killian was a nice change.

'With hope,' she told him.

'You really believe that?'

'I have to.' Emma nodded firmly. 'People like us, sometimes hope is all we have – but it's enough.'

'Well,' he exhaled and stood. 'Even if I don't find what I'm looking for, I'm sure you'll always find me. These meetings are becoming quite the habit.'

Emma tensed at his wording and looked away. It wasn't the same, she reminded herself. The book was just getting to her.

'Aye.' Emma mimicked him, offering a smile. 'So I'll see you again soon, Captain.'

She turned away and walked along the beach, taking her time to return to the house and check on her sons. They were both tucked under their covers; warm and safe. She lay down on her bed and sighed, thinking about how dangerously close Killian was becoming. He knew so much already, and what scared Emma the most was how okay she was with that. He hadn't told her secrets to anyone yet, and he listened in ways Richard couldn't even comprehend.

Killian Jones intrigued her far more than any curse could.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Is everyone still enjoying the story so far? I'd love to hear your opinions!


	5. The Troll Bridge

**The Troll Bridge**

Emma's day began with the frightful sound of Roland's screams. She was out of bed and down the hall before she'd properly registered the start of a new day. Bursting into Roland's room, she gasped at the sight of her son's empty bed.

'Roland?' Emma panicked, quickly checking around before spotting a shadow under the bed.

'What's going on?' Henry sleepily entered the room, rubbing his eyes.

'A nightmare.' Emma breathed. She leaned on the floor, peering under the bed at her wide-eyed little boy. 'Come here.' She coached him into her arms, where Roland gripped her tightly and buried his face in her hair.

Henry left the room to get dressed, despite having no school due to whatever staff-related reason Emma had already forgotten. Her only plans for the day involved breakfast with Mary Margaret, and looking for a job.

'Hey, shhh – you're safe.' Emma sat on the bed and rocked Roland, kissing his forehead and wishing nightmares would leave her sons alone.

'I miss Mosie.'

Emma felt her heart break; of course he would miss Moseley too. Henry didn't talk about it, but he understood how she was gone. Roland, being much younger, wasn't entirely convinced of the purpose of the funeral or why Moseley was gone forever.

'Me too, kid,' Emma said.

'Is she coming back?'

'No,' she whispered, barely keeping her voice even.

Emma was glad Roland couldn't see her face. She couldn't let her little boy see how much she was hurting inside, not when he needed her to be strong. Emma wished she could believe Mary Margaret was her mother, so she'd have someone to talk to. Someone to turn to when things got too hard for one person to cope with alone. Moseley had been there for her, but not like a mother; not in the ways Emma yearned for.

'Come on.' Emma led Roland over to his drawers to pick out clothes. She left him to get dressed and went to her own room to do the same.

Leaning her back against the door to close it, Emma wiped away the tears forming in her eyes. Seeing her phone on the bedside table light up with another received text, she fought the urge to leave it behind. They had to meet Mary Margaret for breakfast to find out how her reading to John Doe had gone last night. Emma didn't have high hopes for it, but she needed the distraction as much as the boys.

'Mum?' She heard Henry call to her from downstairs, as Emma decided she couldn't be bothered tying her hair out of her face.

She changed into the first suitable outfit she found and went to meet Henry in the kitchen.

'Yeah, kid?'

'Do we have any juice?' he asked.

'Can you see any?' Emma frowned, shuffling through papers in the living room.

'No.' Henry checked again.

'Then no.' She said, going back upstairs to hurry Roland along.

The family of three left the house shortly after, and Emma decided to take the car. Her boys remained quiet in the backseat, until she urged them out and they headed into the diner. Picking a booth, Emma sat across from her sons and ordered pancakes.

'She should be here soon,' Henry said, fidgeting in his seat.

Roland turned around to watch the family eating at the table behind. The father complained his porridge was too hot, and Roland giggled.

'Hey, kid,' Emma frowned. 'Let them eat their breakfast in peace, okay?'

'They're like bears.' Roland slid back into his seat. 'Mama, Papa, and baby.'

Emma sighed, and looked around the diner. Sheriff Graham left with a coffee to-go, and the diner remained mostly empty. She tried to listen to Roland, as he excitedly told Henry all about his discovery of Killian being Captain Hook, but her mind kept drifting back to the sight of blood pooling around Moseley's lifeless form. Roland and Henry weren't the only ones who had constant nightmares, only Emma knew hers were far worse.

The boys chatted about Prince Charming, Peter Pan, and magic all through breakfast. Emma barely ate her food and was almost glad when Henry suddenly straightened in his seat with a smile.

'She's here.'

Emma exhaled, and leaned forward to get her sons' attention. Roland stood up on his seat to move closer while Henry's eyes shifted back and forth to the door.

'Hey, don't get your hopes up,' Emma told them quietly. 'We're just getting started, okay?'

She shifted over so Mary Margaret could sit beside her, and held her breath as she joined them.

'He woke up.'

'What?' Emma stared at the woman, certain she'd misheard.

'I knew it!' Henry grinned.

'Does he remember?' Roland added, jumping back onto his feet.

'I mean, he didn't "wake up" wake up, but he grabbed my hand,' Mary Margaret said quickly.

'He is remembering!' Henry's eyes widened.

'It's working!' Roland cheered.

Emma slouched back in her seat, taking a long breath the consider the situation. Mary Margaret insisted she didn't imagine it, and Emma believed her. That was about all she could believe, but each grin on her sons' faces wasn't something she saw regularly enough. Emma didn't even care if they got too caught up with the fairytale for now, just to see their spirits lifted because something was finally going right.

'We have to go back,' Henry said. 'You have to read to him again.'

'Let's go.' Mary Margaret nodded, getting up.

'Henry, wait!' Emma jumped out of her seat to grab hold of her son's jacket before he could rush out the door. 'Roland.' She frowned at the smaller boy, keeping him close to her side.

'I'm sorry.' Mary Margaret shook her head. 'I should've asked-'

'No, it's not that,' Emma dismissed, though she agreed. 'We'll go. Just, do you believe-?'

'That he's Prince Charming?' The woman smiled, eyes sympathetic in a way Emma didn't like. 'I don't think it matters what I believe. I just know that somehow, some way, I touched him.'

Emma was disappointed. She couldn't understand it, but she was. If Mary Margaret believed them or not didn't change the fact they were heading to the hospital together to visit the coma patient. Yet, Emma wanted her to. There was something about the strangers of Storybrooke that made them easy to be around in ways Emma was not used to. She didn't trust them, but she didn't automatically want to keep her distance.

And there was still something impossibly familiar about Mary Margaret.

'You're right, he's waking up!' Henry called over his shoulder, as he and Roland ran ahead through the hospital.

'Hey, hold on.' Graham raised his hands, and Emma quickened her approach. 'Stay back, kids.'

Henry stepped backwards and reached to hold Roland's hand. Emma caught up and saw the look on her son's faces. The Sheriff gave no indication he'd raised his hands to harm them, but she knew the memories of Richard throwing things and yelling, not to mention the slap he'd delivered to Henry's face only days ago, was still fresh on their minds.

'What's going on?' Mary Margaret asked, looking to the glass door. Nurses inside the room gathered around an empty bed. 'John Doe, is he okay?'

'He's missing,' Graham said, moving aside.

Emma frowned at Regina standing by the bed, then glanced over when Killian walked into her line of sight and whispered something to Graham. The Sheriff went to speak with the Mayor, and Killian approached Emma.

'And you're here too,' he said with mock surprise.

'It's him.' Roland nudged Henry.

'Why are you here?' Mary Margaret frowned, catching Emma's attention.

'Graham dragged me along. He seems to think I'm his deputy or something.' Killian rolled his eyes. 'You?'

Emma opened her mouth, though she wasn't sure what she intended to say, and was interrupted by the loud tone of Regina. The woman headed over to them, causing Henry and Roland's retreat to Emma's side.

'What are you doing here?' The mayor then glanced at the boys. 'This is no place for children.'

'I could ask you the same.' Emma crossed her arms. 'Checking up on coma patients is a bit beyond the duties of a Mayor, isn't it?'

'As if you would know.' Regina shook her head. 'Or that it's any of your business.'

'What happened to John Doe?' Mary Margaret asked. 'Did someone take him?'

'That is still unclear,' Killian said.

'His IVs were ripped out but there's no sign for sure there's a struggle.' Graham rejoined them, looking from Regina to Emma as the women glared at each other.

Killian raised an eyebrow at the pair and pressed his lips together to conceal his smirk.

Emma knew when someone was lying, so she didn't trust a single word the Mayor said about finding John Doe on the side of the road years ago. Graham reminded them how important it was for the missing man to be back in the care of the hospital, and Emma looked down at her boys. Henry was watching Regina while Roland kept glancing to Killian.

This was more than just a fairytale now – a man was in danger, regardless of who he was.

'I want to help.' Roland tilted his head back to look at her. 'Please, Mama?'

'Me too!' Henry added.

'That is not up for debate,' Regina stated, looking at Emma. 'We'll handle this; you stay out of it.'

'You're right, it's not up for debate,' Emma told the woman firmly, turning to Killian. 'Finding people is sort of my thing.'

'Is that so?' he said sarcastically. 'I had no idea.'

'Sheriff. Find John Doe,' Regina said. 'You heard Doctor Whale, time is precious.'

The woman strode out of the room, and Emma got to work. The distraction was most welcome, though she reminded herself it wasn't about her – they had to find the man her sons idolised as Prince Charming. Who they thought was her father. Emma didn't believe it, and yet she was highly motivated to do everything she could to help track him down.

* * *

Heading out into the forest to look for a strange man was not where Emma wanted her sons to be, but there wasn't time to argue and she didn't have anyone to watch them.

'Whoa, steady on, lad!' Killian reached to catch Roland, but the boy adjusted his balance in time. 'It's getting harder to see. Tell you what, why don't you light the way?' He tapped a flashlight until it flickered on, and held it out to the boy.

Roland glanced at Emma, then gripped the light to shine it over the beaten path ahead.

Emma watched them carefully, almost forgetting Mary Margaret was talking to her. The woman tried to learn about her, but Emma didn't reveal much more than her job title and that there's someone out there she's still looking for. She never admitted it was her parents, but Mary Margaret seemed to know it was a very personal thing. Emma refused to think she was walking alongside her mother right now while searching for her father, as her sons believed.

'And their father, is he...?'

'You ask a lot of questions.' Emma glanced at Mary Margaret. She saw the blush cross the woman's face, and didn't hold it against her for being curious about the stranger that just one day decided to move to Storybrooke. She'd have asked a lot of questions too, Emma knew.

'You're right. I'm sorry.' Mary Margaret nodded. 'It's none of my business. I just want to get to know you.'

'It's complicated.' Emma sighed, watching Henry rush forward to walk with Roland. 'There's been two men in my life, but no dad in theirs.' She let Mary Margaret assume, and said nothing else on the subject.

Neal didn't even know about Henry, and Emma didn't want him to. He'd abandoned her to jail, and in her eyes a person like that was unreliable on all accounts. Roland's birth mother only briefly mentioned the man who fathered him, and that was to say he had no idea she was ever pregnant – but insisted he was a good man.

Emma had gone on dates, but never properly dated since Neal. She had convinced herself her job and two boys kept her too busy to date. Richard was the only exception, and in three years he never even tried to get to know her sons – he could barely tolerate them on his good days.

Richard was most certainly not Henry or Roland's father.

Emma was still angry how much she'd hoped he'd change; that one day he'd wake up and realise how wonderful Henry and Roland are. It never happened, and only took three months for Henry to realise that having the man around didn't finally give him a father. Emma could still remember the day seven-year-old Henry came to her and said Richard wasn't his daddy, and cried because he'd wanted one so much.

She should have walked away from the man right then, and Emma still couldn't work out why she'd been so foolish to stay.

'I know where he's going.' Henry spoke up.

'Where's that, lad?' Killian asked.

'He's looking for you.' The boy turned to face Mary Margaret. 'For Snow White.'

'I'm afraid I don't follow.' Killian arched an eyebrow.

'It's need-to-know.' Henry told him matter-of-factly.

'And how does one obtain such privileges?' He held his hand out, as Roland stumbled again.

'I don't know yet.' The ten-year-old shrugged, guiding his brother over a large log. 'Besides, I don't think you're ready for it. But trust me, he's looking for Ms Blanchard.'

'Henry-' Emma sighed.

'The trail leads up ahead.' Graham rejoined them, startling Roland into Killian's arms.

Henry gasped, and quickly grabbed Roland's hands to pull him away. Emma watched the exchange and resisted intervening as she knew Killian meant no harm. Henry was still on edge, and maybe she should have tried harder to get him to talk about what happened that prompted the move to Storybrooke.

'Here.' Graham turned on a flashlight, and offered another to Emma. 'We're close.'

'He's looking for Mary Margaret,' Henry insisted, and focused on the woman herself. 'You're the one who woke him up. You're the last one he saw. He wants to find you!'

'Henry, it's not about me,' Mary Margaret said, while Emma struggled to decide if she should let her son push this or tell him to stop. 'I just...I think he's lost and confused. He's been in a coma a long time.'

Henry's determination was beyond anything she'd seen so far regarding the fairytales, and Emma knew there was something else under the surface. Why was it so important for him to unite Mary Margaret and John Doe?

'But he loves you!' Henry raised his voice, halting the group. 'You need to stop chasing him, and let him find you.'

'Hey!' Emma frowned. 'That's enough. Don't speak to Ms Blanchard like that it.'

'Don't you believe me?' Henry scowled.

'I do.' Roland held his brother's hand.

Emma wished Mary Margaret and Killian weren't staring at her. She dreaded what they must be thinking, but one look at her son's pleading eyes and suddenly none of that mattered.

'Of course I believe you.' Emma nodded. 'But there are other ways to get your point across without yelling.'

'How would you know?' Henry grumbled, turning sharply towards Graham's voice further ahead.

'Guys!'

Emma and Killian led the way, running through the bushes to where Graham crouched over something on the ground. Henry skirted around them, and gasped at the hospital band smeared with red.

'That's blood, isn't it?' The boy's voice shook. 'Oh, no. Not again.'

'Henry.' Emma crouched, grabbing his arms to turn him around and face her. 'Look at me.'

'What if he's dead too?' Henry sniffed, as Roland leaned against Emma's side.

'You should leave.' Graham straightened. 'We don't know-'

'No!' Henry shook his head. 'No, I have to know if John Doe is okay. Please.'

Emma fixed Graham with a glare, and passed her flashlight to Mary Margaret. Gripping her sons' hands, she followed behind the group and hoped she'd made the right choice. They shouldn't be out there, but it was too late to turn back.

A wolf howled in the distance as the group moved forward, and a shudder coursed through Emma.

'Where is he?' Mary Margaret led the way behind Graham. 'Can you see him?'

Roland stuttered, his flashlight aimed towards the river. Mary Margaret's joined his, and the woman immediately ran ahead.

'Oh my god!' she started yelling, rushing to the figure lying in the shallow water.

Emma resisted joining them, and turned Roland's flashlight off. They watched as Mary Margaret, Killian, and Graham carried John Doe from the water and up the hill beside them.

Graham radioed for an ambulance to the Troll Bridge, while Mary Margaret tried to wake the man.

'Is he okay?' Henry asked, voice shaking, while Roland stood transfixed at the scene.

'Help's on the way.' Graham said.

Emma lifted Roland from the ground, turning him away. His small arms clung to her, as he cried into her hair. Her heart ached at the sound and mentally prayed a miracle would happen. She didn't want to have to explain again to her little boys that sometimes people died and there's nothing they can do about it.

'Henry!' She tried to grab his jacket, but the boy was too fast.

'Is he going to be okay?' Henry was stopped by Killian before he could reach where Mary Margaret and Graham bent over John Doe, looking for a sign of life.

'Hey, easy there, lad.' Killian kept Henry back, but the boy struggled.

'Let go of me!'

'Henry!' Emma caught up with them, keeping hold of Roland. 'Stay back.'

'I don't want him to die!' Henry's small form shook, and he stopped resisting.

'Don't look.' Killian nudged the boy around, towards Emma. 'Hug your mum, lad.'

Emma shifted Roland to her other hip, and looped an arm around Henry's shoulders. He finally cried; Henry hadn't even shed a tear at Moseley's funeral, and Emma suspected he'd been holding it in ever since.

'Come back to us!' Mary Margaret tried to resuscitate John Doe. 'Come back to me.'

She gave him a kiss of breath, as dread mounted in Emma's chest. Killian stood beside her, and constantly checked the bridge for the ambulance - though it's unlikely they'd see it before hearing. Henry's sobs were muffled against her stomach, as Emma held him the best she could while keeping Roland safe in her hold.

Emma stared as John Doe coughed, and both her children turned to the scene.

'You saved me,' the man said, staring up at Mary Margaret.

'She did it.' Henry rubbed his sleeve across his face. 'She did it! She woke him up.'

Roland wriggled, so Emma put him down. She kept a hand on both boys' shoulders to make sure they stayed put. The ambulance sirens wailed in the background, but Emma couldn't look away from John Doe. Not even when the went back to the hospital with him to make sure he was okay.

Killian and Emma stood off to the side while Regina told Mary Margaret all about Kathryn Nolan, the supposed wife, and that John Doe's name was actually David. Henry sat in a chair nearby, staring at his feet, while Roland peered through the glass door at David.

'You're not buying any of that, are you?' Emma glanced at Killian. She gestured to Kathryn, who explained she thought David had just left after an argument they'd had.

Dr Whale considered the entire event a miracle, though David's memory may take time to return – if at all.

'It is a rather far-fetched tale.' Killian shrugged. 'But it's not the strangest I've heard in this town.'

'What brought him back?' Mary Margaret asked.

'That's the thing.' Dr Whale sighed. 'There's no explanation. Something just clicked in him.'

'He just got up and decided to go for a stroll?' Emma scoffed.

'He woke up and was delirious,' Dr Whale said. 'And his first instinct was to go find something, I guess.'

'Someone,' Henry corrected, gaze still on his shoes.

'Well, isn't this quite the happy reunion?'

Emma grunted when she heard Regina's voice, turning to glare at the woman. She wasn't even sure why the mayor got under her skin so easily but was yet to have any sort of decent interaction with her. Emma didn't buy Mrs Nolan's story, and the mayor was happier than she'd seen the woman – something wasn't right.

'Let it go, love,' Killian said quietly beside her. 'I've noticed life seems to be a lot easier for those who are able to stay off the queen's radar.'

'Queen?' Emma turned sharply to him.

'It fits.' He shrugged. 'She certainly acts like one.'

'Yeah.' Emma smiled at Regina, who glanced at her and was rather alarmed by the look.

The story needed an Evil Queen.

'So...' Killian scratched behind his ear. 'I'd say a celebratory dinner is in order, don't you?'

'Celebratory, really?' She crossed her arms. 'Do people actually celebrate returning lost coma patients?'

'What can I say? I'm hungry.' Killian shrugged. 'Ms Blanchard, care to join?'

'Oh.' Mary Margaret turned, tearing her gaze from David. 'No. Thank you, but I think I'll just turn in for the night.'

'Fair enough.' Killian nodded, wriggling his eyebrows at Emma. 'Swan?'

'Well, we do need to eat. I suppose a bit of company won't be so terrible.' Emma sighed. 'Henry. Roland. Time to go.'

'Won't be so terrible?' Killian shook his head. 'You really know how to flatter a bloke.'

Roland hurried over, reaching his hands for Emma to pick him up. She could never resist his dimpled, pleading face even if she was exhausted and thought he was perfectly okay to walk himself.

'You're the one he was looking for,' Henry stood in front of Mary Margaret, tone hushed yet loud enough for them to hear.

Emma was just glad Regina had gone to speak with Kathryn and David, as she was sure Henry's words would have had an unwelcome impact on the mayor. Staying under the radar, not just of the mayor but everyone in town, was exactly part of her plan in moving to Storybrooke.

'Henry...' Mary Margaret said patiently.

'He was going to the Troll Bridge,' Henry continued. 'It's like the end of the story.'

'I'm clearly missing some details here,' Killian muttered.

'It's need-to-know.' Emma repeated her son's earlier words, but with a teasing smile.

She's not sure where that smile even came from, or why she felt confident enough to do that. Emma had to be more careful; she couldn't risk getting close to anyone, much less a man she found quite intriguing.

'Henry, he was going there because it's the last thing I read to him,' Mary Margaret reasoned.

'No, it's because you belong together.'

'The lad's persistent,' Killian said.

'We all need something to believe in.' Emma walked forward, reaching for Henry's hand. 'Come on, kid. How about we let Snow White rest, and go have dinner with Captain Hook?'

'Okay.' Henry sighed, looking shyly at Killian.

'Why-?' Killian huffed, tilting his head at Emma. 'Still need-to-know?'

'Yep.' Roland nodded from Emma's arms.

~ O ~

All the running through the forest had worn Henry and Roland out before dessert could even be considered.

Emma was glad for an excuse to end the dinner, as having Killian join them hadn't gone as she'd expected. He'd sat beside her and interacted with the boys throughout the entire meal. They drew faces on their burgers with ketchup, and quizzed each other about mundane things like favourite colour or animal – every guessed answer either earning or costing a fry.

On the surface, there was nothing wrong with the event, but inside Emma spent every moment struggling against the dangers of becoming too familiar with someone. She couldn't risk that again – for many reasons, but none more than how badly things had gone in her past. When people get close, they take advantage. Emma had promised herself, after what happened with Richard, that she'd never put her sons at risk again.

She had to give them their best chance.

However, Emma knew she couldn't get both her sons home without waking one of them. Killian's offer to help was a simple gesture, but one that twisted her stomach in ways she fought not to show. Looking at the peaceful faces of her boys, Emma knew sleep was precious after all the nightmares they'd been having lately – so she nodded. The man, dressed in leather and with only one hand, scooped her ten-year-old son into his arms and followed her outside to her car. Emma took Roland, and neither boy woke while being transferred to the backseat.

During dinner, Emma had learned Killian lived close to her neighbourhood and offered to give him a lift. She shouldn't have – her heart screamed at her not to, yet she ignored it. She knew the desire to run wasn't her instincts warning of danger, but her own fears that she was enjoying Killian's company. The man had made her sons laugh, after a tiring day of missing Moseley and trying to find a missing man they believed was their grandfather. The least she could do was not make Killian walk home when she was heading in that direction anyway.

'You've been very quiet, love.'

'Don't take it personally.' Emma parked the car outside her house. 'Today just brought up some memories we'd like to leave behind us.'

Killian didn't pry. He got out of the yellow bug and whistled at the sight of the house. Emma walked around to lift Roland out of the car, as the four-year-old mumbled something in his sleep. She stood guard while Killian reached for Henry, and struggled to stop herself from counting how many times Richard had even thought to do that when one of them had fallen asleep. He'd carried Henry maybe once or twice when they'd first started dating, but with none of the awareness Killian showed while navigating the gate and yard with her child in his arms.

'Ignore the boxes. Unpacking sucks.' Emma carefully shifted Roland's weight to unlock the door, nudging it open with her boot. 'Up here.' She led the way upstairs.

Emma lay Roland in his bed, brushing a hand over his curly hair. She removed his jacket and shoes, then tucked him in. Quickly heading to Henry's room, she saw Killian was still carefully placing the boy on the mattress. He stepped back, letting her tend to the boy.

Emma found Killian downstairs near the kitchen, still looking around the house with interest. His eyes fell to the padlocked basement door, and Emma once again made a mental note to investigate that later on.

She had the key, just hadn't gotten around to it.

'Thanks.' Emma went to the front doorway, hoping to get the man out of her house as soon as possible. He was getting too close.

'Anytime.' Killian nodded, pausing on the top step in front of her. 'Swan? Why Storybrooke? Of all the places you could have relocated to, why here? It's hardly anything special.'

Emma considered his answer, having no desire to talk about Mosley or magic. And she didn't want to discredit herself by admitting she'd literally just gotten in the car and ran from everything in Boston. She also hadn't missed the stares Killian received in the diner; every time he laughed, heads would turn as if the sound was in some way unusual. She didn't think anyone could have kept a straight face while Roland accidentally stuffed a chip in his nose, or when Henry told his favourite animal jokes.

Was there another reason for Killian's question, or was she reading too much into everything?

'I don't know,' Emma said. 'We needed somewhere completely different to what we left behind. Someone once told me that sometimes we end up in places and don't always know how we got there, but at the time it's where we need to be. I don't believe in fate or any of that crap, but I do think we came to Storybrooke for a reason.'

'Aye.' Killian looked down, then offered her a wave with his one hand. 'Night, Swan.'

'Goodnight, Captain.'

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** For the chapters that have scenes from episodes, I hope I am able to blend canon and AU to the point that it all flows together naturally with the story. Not everything from the show will still turn out the way it did, as there are a lot of factors that are different, however I am very excited with the directions this story will be going in. Your feedback and continued reading (as well as favouriting, following etc) are very valuable to me so thank you. Hopefully, you're all still enjoying this story and watching Captain Swan develop!


	6. Make a Wish

Thank you to everyone who is still reading/reviewing/following/favouriting this story! It means so much to me and I hope you're all still enjoying it so far.

* * *

 **Make a Wish**

 **Boston. Two weeks ago...**

 _'Henry. Henry!' Emma called, putting a plate of pancakes on the table. 'Roland, go get your brother.'_

 _'Okay!' Roland jumped down from his chair and hurried to the bedroom he shared with Henry._

 _The apartment door opened and Richard headed for the couch to sort through some crumpled papers. More bills or fines, probably._

 _'What-?' Emma stopped pouring juice and stared at him.'Richard, where's the cake?'_

 _'What?' He glanced up. 'Oh. They said we never ordered one.'_

 _'You didn't order it, did you?' Emma pressed her palms to the counter, ducking her head as she inhaled long breaths._

 _She wasn't going to yell today; not on Henry's birthday._

 _'Was I supposed to?'_

 _'Yes, Richard!' Emma growled, glaring at the man. 'Last week, when I was finishing the Roberson case. Remember? I had to work a month straight and you said you'd take care of the preparations for Henry's birthday.'_

 _'It's just a cake.' Richard shrugged. 'Bake one yourself and cover it in chocolate. He'll never notice the difference.'_

 _'I don't suppose you remembered to get the balloons either?' Emma said bitterly, putting the jug of juice back in the fridge._

 _She slammed the door shut, and clawed a hand through her hair. It was supposed to be a simple event, and once again Richard proved he just didn't care enough to put any effort in._

 _'Look, Em, you're over-reacting.' Richard tossed the papers onto the couch. 'It's not even a party. Not that there'd be any point – no one would come. Just because the kid turned a year older doesn't mean we have to shower him with gifts and cake. It's not a big deal. Order pizza for dinner or something.'_

 _Emma clenched fists at her side, then caught sight of movement to her left. Henry stood at the open doorway of the bedroom, with Roland shuffling his feet beside him, and stared teary-eyed at Richard. The man quickly looked away to resume his interest in the papers._

 _'Okay, forget pancakes. Come on.' Emma snatched her jacket from the back of a chair, gesturing to her boys. 'We're going for ice cream!'_

 _'Ice cream...For breakfast?' Roland ran forward, eyes and grin wide._

 _'Yeah.' Emma nodded and placed a hand on Henry's shoulder. 'Today is a very special day. It's one of my two favourite days of the year. I think that sounds like the perfect time for ice cream.'_

 _Henry blinked tears, but a smile spread over his face at her words. He hugged her around the middle, his gratitude muffled against her shirt. Emma pressed her cheek to his head and glared across the room at Richard._

 _She'd never let anyone make her sons think their birthdays aren't important._

* * *

Emma Swan was on a mission.

Nightmares hadn't plagued her that night, but she woke feeling just as restless. The sun had barely risen as she began her plan and called Mary Margaret for some help. She could easily make it a surprise but knew after everything that's happened, Henry deserved something to look forward to.

'So, the Mayor is the Evil Queen?' Henry asked, walking just ahead of Emma with Roland by his side. 'I can see it.'

'Yeah. But remember, it's our secret mission,' Emma cautioned.

'Operation Sea-Lion!' Roland grinned.

'I know. And I've been thinking,' Henry added, stopping across the street from the school. 'If Captain Hook is here, do you think his ship is too?'

'Uh, that's a good question.' Emma frowned. 'Maybe. We'll have to look at the docks one day. But not this week – especially not on Friday. That's a very important day.'

'What happens on Friday?' Henry frowned, adjusting the strap of his schoolbag.

'Have you made any friends yet?' Emma indicated to the redbrick building.

'No.' Henry looked down.

'Then maybe this will help.' She handed him a pile of envelopes. 'I don't think we gave your Birthday the celebration it deserves, so on Friday we're having a party at Granny's to fix that. You can invite your entire class.'

'Really?' Henry gasped, then launched forward to hug her. 'That's awesome! Thanks, Mum.'

'Thanks for being born, kiddo.' Emma shrugged. 'Go on.'

Henry grinned and turned to run into the school building, clutching the envelopes tightly. Mary Margaret saw him and exchanged a smile with Emma, before following the children inside.

'Will there be cake?' Roland asked, looking up.

'Cake and balloons.' She nodded. 'You want to help?'

'Yeah!' The boy nodded eagerly, hurrying to keep up with Emma on the way to the diner.

'Hey, Ruby.' Emma approached the counter, which Roland whined he wasn't tall enough to see over. 'Did Mary Margaret talk to you about the party?'

'She did.' Ruby smiled. 'I think it's a great idea. And don't worry, we've booked all the tables outside so you can fit a whole class of kids out there.'

'And the cake?'

'Granny's picking the recipe now.' Ruby indicated behind her where Granny was flipping through a thick, well-worn cookbook. 'There's a party shop around the corner. They always overstock balloons, so have at it.'

'Thanks.' Emma was surprised by how willing people were to help.

Ruby and Mary Margaret jumped right on board with the plan, even on such short notice, and they barely knew Emma or her boys. It warmed her heart, reaffirming her decision to move to the small town. Storybrooke had a lot of weird people, and was possibly cursed, but she had a good feeling about finally putting down roots there.

'Thought I might find you here.'

Emma turned when Sheriff Graham approached. Roland peered around her legs at him and offered a shy wave.

'It's where the hot cocoa's at.' Emma shrugged. 'Two please; one large with cinnamon, small without,' she added to Ruby.

'Right.' Graham shook his head with amusement. 'Anyway, I wanted to thank you. For your help finding that coma patient. We all owe you a depth of gratitude.'

'Well, what do I get?' Emma joked, hiding her surprise. 'A commendation? Key to the city?'

'How about a job?' Graham offered. 'I could use a deputy.'

'Killian will be devastated,' Emma said in humour. She knew it would be quite the opposite; Killian made it no secret he was tired of Graham dragging him along every time something happened.

'He'll live.' Graham rolled his eyes. 'What do you say? There's dental.'

'Right, well you've got me there. Can't miss out on good dental.' Emma rolled her eyes, looking down at Roland while she considered the offer.

She hadn't gotten around to much job hunting since arriving at Storybrooke, but Emma did want to work. If only she had someone trustworthy enough to watch Roland during the day. She'd quit her job as a bail-bonds person, when Moseley died, for that exact reason.

'Think about it.' Graham gave her his card.

The Sheriff paid Ruby for his regular morning coffee and left the diner with a last glance at Emma. She watched him leave, then led Roland over to a small table by the door. Handing him some crayons and paper, Emma set to work on planning Henry's birthday party supplies.

'Thank you,' she told Ruby when the woman delivered their hot cocoa to the table.

Dipping her finger in the cream, Emma considered her list and sank back in the chair. It would still be a very simple occasion, but much better than the day of Henry's actual birthday two weeks ago.

'Whatcha drawing, kid?' Emma glanced at Roland's artwork, pretending to see a picture in his colourful scribbles and wavy lines.

'A castle,' Roland said, head bent in concentration. 'For Henry, me, and you.'

'And what's that?' Emma noticed the three stick figures at the top of what was apparently a castle, but near the bottom was a large shape with lots of teeth.

'The Richard dragon.' Roland frowned.

'Oh.' Emma paused. 'Then why don't we have swords?'

'I haven't done them yet.' Roland sighed heavily, looking at her with an exasperated pout. 'Or Prince Charming. He's gonna fight the dragon.'

'Right. Sorry.' Emma bit back a smile. 'Don't forget your hot cocoa.'

Roland reached for the cup, but his grip slipped - the warm liquid spilled all over Emma's front and her list.

'Oh!' She jumped up, but it was too late. 'Really?' she grumbled at her luck.

'I'm sorry!' Roland whimpered. 'Mama, I-'

'Shh, baby, it's okay.' Emma placed a hand on his shoulder as Ruby rushed over to help.

'Eesh.' Ruby winced, holding out a cloth.

Emma wiped some of the cream off and huffed. Rubbing a hand on the back of Roland's curly hair, as his breathing returned to normal, she looked at Ruby and knew she'd have to try something new.

'Do you have a laundry room I can use?' Emma asked.

'Mmhmm!' Ruby smiled, pointing.

'Thanks. Do you mind watching Roland?'

'Sure.' Ruby nodded.

'Mama!' Roland sank further in his chair. 'Please, don't go.'

'Roland, it's okay.' Emma crouched to his level, ignoring the liquid soaking through her shirt. 'I just need to clean this up. I'll be right over there.' She pointed where Ruby had.

Giving the waitress a stern stare, Emma headed off to change her shirt. She tossed the red jacket aside and dumped her shirts into the washing machine. Slamming it shut, she tried not to worry about Roland in the other room. Ruby was nice, and probably the most familiar person in town so far, but Emma still didn't know the woman very well. She was sure Roland was okay, so long as she was only gone for a short time.

Then she met a very pregnant nineteen-year-old, who said no one thought she could do anything. Emma couldn't just walk away – she'd left Henry in Moseley's care for the first few years of his life. Even now, he was ten and she still wasn't sure how to be the best mother possible for her two boys.

'People are going to tell you who you are your whole life. You just got to punch back and say, "no, this is who I am",' Emma said. 'You want people to look at you differently? Make them. If you want to change things, you're going to have to go out there and change them yourself, because there are no fairy godmothers in this world.'

Emma gave Ashley the speech she wished someone had given her before she'd had Henry, and hoped it made a difference. She returned to the main area of the diner shortly after and felt calmer seeing Roland drawing away at the table with Ruby standing behind him.

The young woman squinted at the paper as if trying to decipher it, and looked up before Emma said anything.

'Thanks.' She sat down. Ruby headed back to the counter while Emma reached across the table to give Roland's free hand a brief squeeze.

'Mama?'

'Just happy to see you, kid.' She smiled.

Emma didn't know how she'd considered giving Henry up when he was born but was glad Moseley talked her out of it. Then Emma let Roland's birth mother talk her into adopting the little, curly-haired boy sitting beside her. She didn't know if she was doing things right or giving them the best chance they deserved, but Emma would never give up trying. Perhaps it's also time she started taking some of her own advice and making some more changes? She got out the card Graham had given her.

She'd encouraged Henry to make friends, but maybe it was time for her to start doing the same?

* * *

Having Mr Gold show up at the house during breakfast was not something Emma appreciated.

Only a week in town, and Emma already had a new case to find someone. She wasn't exactly being paid, but that was the least of her concerns. The pregnant girl, Ashley, was nowhere to be found - Emma couldn't believe such a thing was possible in a place as seemingly small as Storybrooke.

Ruby agreed to help her. After dropping Henry off at school, with many protests from the ten-year-old wanting to help her find the maid, Emma headed to the address Ruby had given her. She tried to leave Roland in the car, and it took some convincing for him stay back when something important was going on.

The father of the baby, Sean, was not so helpful - though it was his father Emma wanted to punch. The older man was clearly the reason for at least half the issues that caused the situation she'd gotten herself involved with.

'I found someone who's going to find that child a good and proper home,' Sean's father said, as Emma forced her hands to her side to keep them there.

'And who are you to judge whether Ashley is capable of providing that?' Emma frowned.

She glanced at Roland watching her from the car, and was glad he'd stayed there.

'Look at her. She's a teenager. She's never shown any evidence of being responsible.' The man's words seeped through her confidence, reminding Emma of things far too familiar. 'How could she possibility know how to be a mother?'

'Maybe she's changing her life.' Emma wanted to believe Ashley could do this. She had to believe she could too, even if it took Emma a bit longer to realise how.

'Everybody says that,' Sean's father said. 'Now, look. I found someone who's going to pay Ashley extremely well. Someone who's going to see to it that everybody's happy.'

Learning Ashley had sold her baby to Mr Gold just made it harder for Emma to keep her intentions to make friends with the people of the town. She knew the real reason Mr Gold hadn't gone to the police, but Emma only cared about helping Ashley. Talking to Sean or his father wasn't going to be of any use, and she had to find Ashley before someone else did.

'You don't get to decide someone's life just because you don't believe they can make anything of it.' Emma glared at the man and headed back to the car.

'Are they gonna help?' Roland asked.

'No.' Emma started the engine and drove back through the main street. 'But I know who will.'

'Who?'

'Red Riding Hood,' Emma said, parking the yellow bug outside the diner. 'Come on, kid.'

Emma and Roland hurried to the door, and almost crashed into Killian as he'd been about to leave. She exhaled and stepped back, expecting a joke or smile from the man and was instead met with a dark frown.

'Judging from your rush, I gather it's true.' Killian shook his head. 'You're helping Gold track down Ashley? That man cannot be trusted, Swan.'

'I don't trust him.' Emma crossed her arms. 'I'm doing this for Ashley, not Gold.'

'She ran away for a reason. Finding her is what Gold wants!' he growled, as Emma forced herself not to react. 'I've been down this road before. You're making a mistake by getting involved. All he cares about is making deals, no matter who gets hurt.'

'I've made a lot of mistakes,' Emma said angrily. 'That's how I know there's some you just don't come back from. If Ashley wants to have this baby, she should have it. Anyone who wants to be a mother should damn well be allowed to be one!'

Emma placed a hand on Roland's shoulder, keeping him close to her side as she tried to fight the memories of her own fears of motherhood. She hadn't given up Henry or Roland, and it was the decision to keep them both that Emma was most certain of in all the choices she'd made in her life.

Everyone deserved the right to choose.

'I thought you'd want to help,' Emma added, eyeing Killian with disappointment. Had she misjudged him? 'It's obvious you don't like Gold. I'm surprised you're not the first in line to stop him from screwing up someone's life.'

'Aye.' Killian's voice deepened. He glanced at Roland, then met her eyes. 'And it's cost me. Now, I have nothing left to lose from battling with Gold. You have something quite precious to lose, Swan. Please don't do this. No one has ever broken a deal with him.'

'I'm happy to be the first.' Emma fished an envelope from her pocket and offered it to him, hoping that wouldn't be the last chance she'd have to do so.

Killian was strongly against her involvement in the situation between Ashley and Gold. He'd also reminded him he was still human – for the week she'd known Killian, Emma had little to speak against him until now. He had no right to tell her what to do, or not do. His intentions were fine, but his anger was still a dose of reality of how quickly a person can turn on someone.

Emma had to be careful, no matter who anyone was.

'What's this?'

'Take it.' Emma shoved the envelope into his hand. 'Henry wanted to invite you too. Regardless of what you might think of me, don't take it out on a ten-year-old who just wants his birthday to mean something.'

'Why would he think it doesn't?' Killian stared at the envelope.

'I don't have time for this. Please move.' Emma waited, and was relieved when he stepped aside.

Tugging Roland's hand, she headed into the diner to talk to Ruby. Emma spotted the wolf keyring from Ruby's car, that the woman had been so worried about earlier, and realised she'd been played.

'You knew sending me to Sean wasn't going to help find her.' Emma sighed, looking away from Ruby. 'You just wanted to give Ashley a head start.'

'Look, I'm only trying to help her,' Ruby said. 'She's my friend.'

Emma looked up and considered her options.

She knew from Ruby's eyes that she could get the woman to help her, but how? Emma didn't like reaching out to people, but she'd promised herself she'd give this new town a real chance. That meant she had to give some of the people there a chance too. She'd be hypocritical to hold others mistakes against them when she had quite the rap sheet of her own.

'I know, and I respect that, but she's in more trouble than you know. Don't make her deal with Gold without me. I want to help her too.' Emma nodded. 'I know we're not friends and you have no reason to trust me, but let's start with this, okay? Ruby, where is she?'

The woman sighed and finished gathered some plates from a table. Walking around the counter, she met eyes with Emma and nodded.

'She left town,' Ruby told her. 'Said she was going to try Boston. Thought she could disappear there.'

Emma scoffed, knowing Boston was not the best place for that. She'd thought so too, after being released from jail, and had only managed to find more trouble. Running away only worked if the person ran to a place that didn't make it feel like running away. It had to be somewhere better, and worth giving up everything that was left behind. Emma knew that now.

'How long ago did she leave?' Emma asked.

'About half an hour ago.' Ruby sighed. 'I didn't want her to leave, especially with what happens to people who try to leave town, but she was so scared. She thought it was the only way.'

'What do you mean?' Emma frowned. 'What happens to people who try to leave town?'

'It's just a superstition.' Ruby shrugged, returning her interest to the plates. 'People who leave town don't usually get that far. Something bad always happens like the place is...'

'Cursed?' Roland offered, still trying to see over the counter.

'Yeah.' Ruby frowned. 'I hope she's okay.'

'I'll find her - even if I have to drive all the way to Boston,' Emma promised. 'I don't know how long I'll be. Could you maybe pick Henry up from school if I'm not back in time?' She glanced at the clock on the wall, anxiety building in her chest.

'Absolutely.' Ruby nodded. 'Good luck. I hope you find her before Gold does.'

The existence of a curse keeping anyone from leaving Storybrooke became less ridiculous to Emma when Roland pointed out the car in the ditch right near the town line. The moment Ashley clearly agreed that she wanted to keep her baby, Emma rushed her to the hospital with her word that no one was going to take it from her.

Emma paced in the waiting room with Roland, sitting on a seat nearby to flip through the storybook, and waited for what she knew was coming. Not the healthy baby girl, as announced by the nurse, but the man seeking her.

Emma watched Mr Gold smile in a way that sent chills over her skin.

'She's Cinderella,' Roland said, pointing to a page on the book. 'She cleans. Has step-sisters-'

'Not now, Roland.' Emma sighed. 'Wait here.'

'Care for a cup, Miss Swan?' Gold offered, turning to face her by the coffee machine.

'Why didn't you tell me?' Emma glared, Killian's words passing through her mind.

'Well because, at the time, you didn't need to know.'

'Really?' She raised an eyebrow, keeping her gaze on him to spot the lies. 'Or you thought I wouldn't take the job?'

He knew too much about her. Emma kept her guard up and stood her ground, but Mr Gold said things she hadn't told anyone else. He knew she'd be more likely to understand the reasons behind giving up a baby. Gold also knew she'd been in the foster system, but Emma wasn't going to let him win.

Killian was right; the man only cared about the deal being upheld – and it gave her an idea.

'You know no jury in the world will put a woman in jail, whose only reason for breaking and entering was to keep her child. I'm willing to roll the dice that contract doesn't stand up. Are you?' Emma smirked. 'Not to mention what might come out about you in the process. Somehow, I suspect, there is more to you than a simple pawn broker. You really want to start that fight? I don't think you do.'

She could see the tiny twitch of his eyebrows and knew she had him. Emma had the advantage and she didn't intent to let it slip.

'Now, I also know all about your reputation for making contracts,' she continued, crossing her arms. 'Put it to me instead and let Ashley keep her baby. That'll even things out, right?'

'I like you, Miss Swan.' Gold smiled. 'You're not afraid of me, and that's either cocky or presumptuous. Either way, I'd rather have you on my side. If you're willing to make a deal with me so Ashley can have that baby...'

'I am.' Emma frowned, hoping she wasn't going to regret it. 'What do you want?'

'Oh, I don't know yet.' Gold looked at her in a way that didn't make Emma feel as if she really had the upper hand. 'You'll owe me a favour.'

Emma kept eye contact, wanting to show she could handle anything he threw at her. She was winning though it no longer felt like a victory. Either way, Ashley could keep her baby girl as long as Emma said yes. That's what she went there to do, and backing out now would lose any power her confidence had gained.

'Deal.' Emma shook his hand tightly, moving to watch the man limp away with his cane and smug smile.

'Who is he?' Roland asked, walking to her side with the book clutched in his arms.

'I don't know,' Emma said. 'But I'm going to figure it out. Come on, let's go tell Cinderella the good news.'

She paused to look at the time and knew they'd still make it back to pick Henry up from school. Another resident was saved from an irreversible fate, and Emma wasn't going to ignore the pattern beginning to form. She refused to consider she was what Henry and Roland believed her to be; a saviour destined to break the evil curse and bring back the happy endings.

There was one thing Emma did accept – something was definitely going on in Storybrooke. Maybe it was a curse, or perhaps something less crazy, but whatever it was Emma knew she had to solve it if the town was going to be home.

That was how she would make sure her sons got their best chance. Emma made a deal to herself in keeping them, that she'd always be enough for Henry and Roland to have the best lives possible. So far, she hadn't done a very good job of keeping that promise. Emma was going to fix that, starting with a birthday party and new friends.

~ O ~

The only other time Emma had been so anxious about every ticking minute was when she'd been pregnant with Henry. Preparing for the now ten-year-old's birthday party, in only a few days, could not have been possible without those so eager to help her make it a success.

Ruby even had a man named Leroy help to put up extra twinkling lights outside the back area of the diner, where the party would be held. The man stayed to assist with general maintenance (with the promise of a slice of cake as payment), and once again Emma was reaffirmed in her choice of moving to Storybrooke. It wasn't exactly friendships and trust she shared with the strangers, but rather the potential.

She had hope, for now, that it was a possibility.

When the sky was just dark enough for the lights to glow their alternating colours, in a very fairytale-like style, Emma allowed herself to stop watching the clock. She hadn't seen Killian at all since they'd disagreed over Gold. Henry and Roland were with Mary Margaret, and the stress of getting the party area ready in time was all that could keep Emma from worrying.

When the final napkin was folded, the ten-year-old boy himself ran over to admire the hard work.

'Wow!' Henry stared, turning to see everything.

Roland and Mary Margaret joined him, each looking around with smiles. Emma fidgeted, and quickly made sure everything she'd wanted was complete. It wasn't a big event – with only balloons, coloured paper, and lights as decoration, but Emma hoped it was enough to make any birthday boy feel celebrated.

'What do you think?'

'It's the best.' Henry grinned. 'Has anyone showed up yet?'

'No, but there's still ten minutes so don't worry,' Emma assured him, and headed into the diner to check on the cake.

Pausing just inside, she saw Killian enter the front door with a brightly-wrapped box under his arm. He quickly averted his eyes and Emma could only manage a smile as she approached him.

He didn't look mad at her, so that was a start.

'You came.' Emma didn't know how to express her gratitude for that. Henry had really wanted him there, as much as Ruby and Mary Margaret, and there he was.

'I was invited.' Killian shrugged. 'Where do I put this?' He raised the gift.

'Through here.' Emma headed outside and pointed to the designated table.

'Killian!' Henry and Roland rushed over when they saw him.

'Oh.' Mary Margaret quickly stepped aside. 'I guess the party has officially begun.'

'I guess so.' Emma nodded, watching Killian greet her sons.

'Here's your party hat.' Roland held up a paper crown.

He and Henry proudly wore theirs, though Emma and Ruby had carefully avoided being offered one. Mary Margaret was fairly content with hers and Killian did not share that enthusiasm. She could feel Mary Margaret's eyes on her as Emma bit back a laugh at how ridiculous Killian looked with the hat on his head. The crown itself oddly suited him, though his look of his disgruntled compliance was quite amusing.

'Perfect.' Henry nodded with approval.

'So, Henry invited him?' Mary Margaret asked.

'Hm?' Emma glanced at her. 'Oh. Yeah. He invited David too, but he hasn't been discharged from the hospital yet.'

'Right.' The woman quickly looked away, then frowned at the time. 'I thought at least Molly would be here by now. I've never known her to be late for anything.'

Emma counted the empty tables and those present; Killian, Mary Margaret, Ruby, Leroy, and Granny. Everyone was smiling, but Henry wasn't. He counted the chairs too, and Richard's words echoed in Emma's mind. She refused to believe any vile things that man tried to make her son believe of his own false unimportance.

The minutes turned to an hour and the sky fully darkened. Henry had invited his entire class to the birthday party and not a single one of them had come.

Mary Margaret insisted it was a mistake and someone must have said something to discourage them. Remembering the Mayor's daughter was in Henry's class too, Emma was sure that much was true.

The Evil Queen had earned her title.

'Where is everyone?' Killian was the first to say it aloud, sniffing the contents of the punch as if hoping for more than just juice.

'No one came.' Henry's sullen voice reached them from the chair nearby. His shoulders were hunched and head ducked so he could stare at the ground, where his stomped party hat was. 'Richard was right; no one would come. It's no big deal that I'm a year older. This was a stupid idea.'

'Who's Richard?' Mary Margaret wondered.

'No one.' Emma growled.

They startled when Killian tossed a paper cup onto the table of snacks. The man made a deep snarling sound and marched back into the diner. Emma didn't have the energy to care. Roland sank into the seat beside his brother with equal disappointment.

She turned away, fighting the storm brewing inside her. Without a word to anyone, Emma hurried into the diner and found a darkened booth to sit in. She raked her hands through her hair and released a shaky breath.

Not one classmate had come to her little boy's party.

Emma Swan, a bail-bonds woman, was so emotional she shivered from the anger and despair. She hadn't reacted like that in months, hiding away in the dark in hope no one would see her being weak - not since the last time Richard had thrown himself into a fit of rage. He hadn't hit her, nor had the boys been at the apartment at the time, but sometimes he didn't need to lash out physically.

Sometimes, it was words and the fear of unpredictability that matched any strength of a physical blow.

She'd tried to fix things with the party and only managed to prove Richard's words still had power over them. Not even a bunch of fairytales could erase that, no matter how long Emma sat there wishing for the first time that the curse was absolutely real. It couldn't be nearly as terrible as the curse of her ruining everything she touched.

'Emma?' Mary Margaret's quiet voice reached her.

'What?' She quickly brushed tears from her face.

'Are you okay?'

Emma fought the urge to laugh. Had she ever really been okay? With foster care, jail, and then the horrible three years with Richard – how would she know? She'd gotten so caught up in Storybrooke and fairytales that she'd overlooked how one thing going right for a week didn't make up for years of bad choices and rotted luck.

'The man Henry mentioned, Richard...' Mary Margaret paused. 'Was that someone you knew in Boston? One of the men who was never their father?'

'I appreciate that you're trying to help, because that's who you are, but it's none of your business.' Emma shook her head. 'And I...'

She couldn't even say how much she didn't want to talk about that man or even think of his wasteful existence. She just wanted to cry or scream and throw things but she couldn't. Emma had to be strong. If she fell apart, her sons would never believe her reassurances again and the people of Storybrooke would know she was weak. They'd know she was a terrible mother who couldn't even make her son's birthday a happy one.

'Mama!'

Hearing Roland call her with such urgency, Emma almost bumped into Mary Margaret in the rush to get back outside. The sight of the chattering group left her in a state of shock. Killian stood with Henry, introducing him to an aged man named Marco, as Emma slowly made her way over.

'Why did you come?' Henry asked the man. 'You don't know me.'

'Perhaps not,' Marco smiled. 'But when Killian told me that a very special boy had just turned ten, and asked if I'd like to help him celebrate such a milestone – well, how could I refuse?'

'Do you have kids, Marco?' Henry wondered.

'Oh, no.' He looked away sadly. 'I was never so fortunate. You are very blessed to have a mother who cares for you so much.'

'Yeah.' Henry smiled at Emma, who struggled to return the gesture.

'Happy Birthday, Henry,' Archie said as he passed, heading to place a present and envelope on the table with the pile of gifts.

'Thanks!' Henry smiled.

He and Emma both looked to Killian, and the man quickly became interested in the nearest tablecloth.

'Henry, Roland, why don't you go ask Granny if the cake's ready?' Emma nudged them.

'There's a cake?' Henry gasped.

'Of course. Can't have a birthday party without a cake.' She nodded, keeping her mask in check.

The boys hurried away, waving to Graham, and granted her a moment relatively alone with Killian.

'I don't even know what to say,' she admitted.

'You don't have to say anything, Swan.' Killian frowned, tugging at his ear while he avoided making eye contact. 'That bastard was wrong; he had no right to say that to a child. Henry is a great lad and deserves a great party. I merely added to the guest list.'

'You did so much more than that,' Emma whispered, staring at the man who kept bringing smiles to her sons' faces in the most surprising ways.

He was impossible.

'How, uh – how did things go with Ashley?' Killian asked. 'Ruby mentioned you found her.'

'Yeah. It's fine. She's keeping her baby.' Emma knew he was changing the subject and allowed it. She glanced at her two boys, who were laughing at something Graham said, then looked down.

'What is it?' Killian asked. 'What did Gold-'

'It's not Gold.' Emma sighed, hugging her arms around herself. 'When Henry was born, I almost made the same mistake Ashley could have. There was a woman named Moseley, who was my last foster mother before I left the system. While I was pregnant, everyone was so busy telling me I couldn't be a mother. Moseley was the only person who actually asked me if I wanted to be one.'

'That's why it was so important for you to help Ashley.' Killian nodded, glancing over her shoulder to watch Henry count his presents. 'You're a great mother, Swan. It's clear you love those boys more than anything. This party is just further proof of that.'

'I failed them the first time. Failure is just something I'm good at.' Emma shook her head and bit her lip to keep her secrets at bay. She couldn't let anyone know how much she'd let her boys down over the years.

She was very far from being a great mother.

'You helped David and Ashley. I mean, bloody hell, you stood up to Gold! Not even the Mayor dares that,' Killian said. 'You're not a failure, Swan. You're a fighter.'

'You really believe that?' Emma raised an eyebrow at him, unable to detect a lie.

'Aye.' Killian nodded. 'I've yet to see you fail.'

Emma didn't know what to do with that kind of faith and was glad when Ruby brought out the cake shining with ten blue candles. Everyone sang, surrounding Henry with smiles and the warmth of acceptance. The boy could hardly sit still, until it came time to blow out his candles and Henry hesitated.

'Mum?' He turned to look up at her. 'I don't know what to wish for. Can I save it for later?'

'Oh.' Emma bit back a smile at his request. 'Sure.' She carefully picked the candle tipped with a blue star, and dipped it into Killian's cup of punch to put it out. She wrapped the candle in a napkin and handed it to Henry.

'Thanks.' The boy smiled. He took a deep breath to blow out the remaining candles while everyone cheered.

Except Killian, who was busy tossing his paper cup into the trash. Emma smiled at his grumpiness and couldn't resist reaching to straighten the silly crown hat he continued to wear. Emma met his blue eyes and wished she had the words to explain how thankful she was. He'd reminded Henry that people weren't just at his party because she'd asked them to help set it up.

The gloom Richard brought into their lives and hearts was still there - Emma knew that for sure after that night, but not all the time. The fairytales helped but seeing her sons laugh and run around under the sparkling lights was magical in itself.

Killian stayed close to Roland, helping the little boy be less shy when thanking everyone for coming to help make his brother happy. Granny turned on the lights in the diner so Graham could teach Henry to throw darts, while Emma competed against them with her completely lacking dart-throwing skills. It did give her the chance to officially tell Graham her decision to accept his offer in becoming Storybrooke's new deputy.

He told her she could start on Monday.

'Can I open my presents now?' Henry asked.

'Sure, kid.' Emma nodded. 'It's getting late, so it's now or never.'

She sat at a table nearby, continuing to watch her sons being joyous and carefree. That's how they should look and she never wanted the party to end. She snapped photos with her phone so a physical piece of that moment would always be with her. Roland helped Henry unwrap the presents, with and against his request, and everyone laughed at them wrestling with the coloured paper.

Emma wrote down every gift and who gave it, reminding herself to personally thank each of them later. Granny gave Henry a card and a coupon for a free dessert, while Marco had somehow managed to build and paint a wooden train set on short notice. Emma was glad Henry loved the boardgames and scarf she'd gotten him, though was impressed with the stack of books from Mary Margaret. Graham, Archie, and Roland gave him a card each – Henry took the time to read every one aloud with the awe he usually reserved for the storybook.

There was so much love for her son that Emma tried not to get teary over the sight of the townspeople gathered to celebrate his birthday. Even grouchy Leroy was enjoying himself.

'Wow!' Henry lifted Killian's gift from the shredded wrapping. 'What is it?'

'A spyglass.' Killian extended the object. 'Used by sailors to see things far away.'

'To look for land?' Henry asked, peering through it with a grin. 'That's so cool!'

'Aye. Sometimes, it helps to look ahead and gain a new perspective.' Killian nodded, reaching into his leather pocket. 'There's also this, but I didn't wrap it. It's uh, fragile.'

The glass figurine of a ship shone in the overhead lights, as Henry accepted it with utmost caution while Roland leaned to have a closer look. Emma knew it was handmade. Killian blushed at the stares and gratitude aimed his way, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. He kept his head low, even as the guests parted for the evening until few remained.

'This was the best birthday ever!' Henry hugged Emma's middle, startling her as she'd moved to help Ruby clean up despite the woman's insisting it wasn't necessary. 'Thanks, Mum.'

'Henry.' Emma crouched to meet his eyes, hands resting on his shoulders. 'I need you to never forget just how happy I am that you were born. I'm not great at a lot of things in life, but every day you make me want to be the greatest mother I can be. Both of you do.' She placed a hand on Roland's shoulder too.

'You are a great mother.' Henry nodded. 'I know Richard hurt you. He hurt us too, but you always loved us even when things were bad. Storybrooke is awesome and I hope we can live here forever, but I just want you to be happy too.'

'I am, kid.' Emma ruffled his hair, wishing her words weren't traced with a lie.

'It was so nice of everyone to be here.' Henry looked around at the lights. 'I think you're right – the Evil Queen told the others not to come. That's okay. I don't need friends – I have a brother.' He looped an arm over Roland's shoulders.

'Yeah.' Roland nodded. 'Brothers are the best friends!'

'Indeed, they are.' Killian approached. 'Apologies for the interruption. I'm heading off and just wanted to say goodnight.'

'Thanks for coming.' Henry looked up at the man. 'And I don't think Captain Hook is really a villain. He can't be because a villain would never come to my birthday party or make my mum smile like you do.'

'Is that so?' Killian raised a suggestive eyebrow at Emma.

She rolled her eyes and ignored him the best she could, which was barely saying much when her blush gave her away. Henry was far too perceptive sometimes.

~ O ~

The party had worn everyone out.

Emma went straight to bed after the boys finally settled for the night. She was confident the nightmares could not overpower the fun they'd had, despite the earlier heartache. It's why she was so surprised when a small hand touched her shoulder and young voice whispered to her later at night.

'Henry?' Emma groggily swatted her hand to the bedside table for the lamp switch. His dry, smiling face only added further confusion to why he could be waking her well after midnight.

'I know what I want to wish for now,' the boy said in hushed tones, clutching the blue-starred candle in his hands. 'Can we go to the kitchen and light it?'

Emma made a sound of protest, then exhaled heavily and forced her body to leave the comfy bed. Dragging herself downstairs, with Henry hurrying ahead to search for matches, Emma was just relieved it was excitement that kept her boy up rather than another lashing of fear and sadness.

'Ah!' Emma snatched the match from Henry before he could strike it. 'How about I handle that bit?'

'I can do it.' Henry rolled his eyes. 'I'm ten now.'

'I know, I was there.' Emma got the leftovers of the cake from the fridge, for Henry to put the candle into instead of holding it.

He'd almost set fire to Moseley's house when he was five; she wasn't taking any chances.

She lit the star tip and yawned into her free hand. Henry climbed onto a chair at the table, staring intently at the flickering flame. He looked at her and smiled, then squeezed his eyes tightly shut. They hadn't bothered with the overhead lights, so Emma couldn't quite read the mouthed words of Henry's silent wish.

With a huff of air, the boy blew the candle out. Emma felt a shiver tickle her skin and frowned at the shadowed emptiness of the house. She didn't ask Henry what he'd wished for, but Emma had the strangest feeling that whatever it had been – it was going to come true.


	7. Brotherly Bonds

**Brotherly Bonds**

Roland lost a tooth that Saturday morning and Emma wasn't sure how to feel about it. Like with Santa Clause and the Easter bunny, she never made her boys believe in the tooth fairy, but every tooth lost was a big deal. She kept them in jars like the little treasures they were, representing the progression of their childhoods.

Her little boy was a proper kid now; Roland had a growth spurt since they'd moved to Storybrooke and Emma hadn't noticed right away.

After Henry's belated birthday party, both boys picked a wall in the house to measure their heights. It was then that Roland proudly showed off the new gap in his smile. Emma hated any reminder of how fast time blinked away when it came to her children. Having lost Moseley and finally found a place to put down roots for her small family, Emma realised how much she'd been missing out on. All those hours she'd been too afraid of full-time motherhood were moments her boys hit milestones without her.

She'd even missed Henry's first steps.

With one tiny tooth held in Roland's small hand, Emma was confronted with the reality of what she'd really been doing by not spending time with them when she should have. How had she gotten it all so wrong? The weekend, before she was due to start her new job as the Storybrooke deputy sheriff, gave Emma the perfect excuse to start really spending time with her boys in the ways she'd previously avoided. As someone who had never known her family or found a home of her own, Emma knew it was important that Henry and Roland to know their mother would always be there.

No more running.

'I can't find my boots,' Roland whined, stomping his bare feet in the doorway of Emma's bedroom.

'You don't need them. Just wear the shoes you got last week,' Emma dismissed, checking the supplies spread over her bed.

'I need my boots!' Roland grumbled.

With a heavy exhale, Emma rubbed a hand over her face and ignored the buzz of her phone from the bedside table. Even after a week, Richard had not relented his badgering texts and attempted calls. She had enough stress to deal with that weekend without constantly fighting the urge to cave and let Richard know just how angry he made her.

'Mama?'

'Ugh, Roland.' Emma frowned at the boy. 'There's still some boxes in the living room. Check those.'

He hurried downstairs and Emma scooped her supplies into a backpack. She considered her phone, as she did every day since moving to Storybrooke, and decided this time it had to stay. The weekend was a fresh start in itself and she was determined not to let anything mess with that. Richard had ruined too much already.

Emma tried to ignore the clattering sounds downstairs as she made her way to Henry's room. Peering around the ajar door, Emma smiled at her ten-year-old sitting on the window seat. His back was to her as Henry used his spyglass to see the distance through the open window.

'Any pirate ships on the horizon?' she asked.

Henry turned quickly and smiled, sliding down from the seat.

'Nah, not today,' Henry said.

'Right. C'mon, kid.' Emma gestured him over. 'Time to go.'

'I found them!' Roland's voice echoed from downstairs, followed by what sounded like a stack of books no longer stacked.

'His boots?' Henry guessed, walking alongside Emma as she slipped an arm around his shoulders.

'Yeah.' Emma rolled her eyes, pretending not to notice the mess her youngest son had made in the living room. 'Ready?'

'Yup!' Roland nodded, standing proudly in his bright green boots.

Emma led the way to the docks while her boys chatted beside her about how excited they were for their first time sailing. The pirate and Captain Hook references were never-ending and were further heightened by her boys trying to decide if the Jolly Roger was nearby.

'Look, I'm not saying I wouldn't be curious but-'

'I told you, it's not a date!' Killian stood with Leroy, who would be joining them

'Okay, I believe you.' Leroy glanced at their company. 'Since she brought the pixies.'

'Ah, there you are.' Killian smiled, which Emma returned.

She wasn't sure if he was somehow happy to see her or just glad to stop whatever conversation Leroy was trying to have. The word "date" had almost stopped her in her tracks, but she hid it well.

'Pixies?' Henry frowned.

'Yeah, with ears like that.' Leroy nodded, smirking as both boys reached to touch their ears. 'And you're so small.'

'Are you a dwarf?' Roland added.

'Roland!' Emma frowned.

'That's fine.' Leroy shrugged. 'I called them pixies. Fair game, Sister.'

'Sister?' She glanced at Killian.

'He calls everyone that.' The man shrugged. He gestured to the gangplank leading onto a boat large enough for their group but not quite big enough to be called a ship.

'Even you?' Emma teased, which Killian ignored.

Everyone boarded and Emma instantly snatched up the smallest life jacket.

'I don't wanna!' Roland protested, crossing his arms.

'This isn't a paddling pool, Roland.' Emma sighed. 'Just put it on, for me?'

'Does Henry have to wear one too?' The little boy glared at his brother.

Emma knew Henry was a good swimmer and had always loved the water, but Roland was never fond of it; he didn't have an issue with water, just wasn't a keen swimmer.

It made her smile to see Henry grab a life jacket and put it on, knowing he'd had every intention to protest as well. Roland relented and Emma was able to secure his life jacket, even with the boy squirming and struggling not to pull away the entire time, while Leroy checked Henry's was worn properly.

Confident her boys wouldn't be drowning at sea, Emma stepped back to realise Killian had already steered them well beyond the docks and had just dropped the anchor. He kept glancing at the two boys, as Henry and Roland playfully pushed each other to test the strength of their life jackets.

There was something sad about his eyes that Emma couldn't place.

'Is this your boat?' Henry asked him.

'Uh, no.' Killian and shared a quick glance with Leroy.

'Whose is it?' the boy looked over the edge at the endless blue around them while Roland climbed onto a crate to reach the same view.

'No idea,' Killian said quickly, busying himself with some rope. 'It's...Borrowed.'

'Borrowed?' Emma frowned at him then Leroy's guilty swerve to avoid her eyes. 'You stole a boat?'

'Are you going to arrest us, Deputy?' Leroy challenged.

'I said, "borrowed". We fully intend to return it.' Killian dismissively waved his hand in the air. 'Anyway, whoever owns this boat never uses it. A damn shame.'

'You really are a pirate.' Henry grinned.

'That's not...' Emma grumbled, not wanting her sons to think stealing a boat was something to be encouraged. 'Ugh. Fine. I'm not a deputy yet anyway. Not until Monday.'

'Noted.' Leroy nodded seriously, then faced Killian. 'We should hit the bar later. It's been a week – the others aren't even a challenge. I miss my drinking buddy.'

'Raincheck, mate.' Killian shook his head, offering rope to both the boys.

'What's this for?' Henry frowned.

'Are we gonna do more pirate stuff?' Roland wondered.

'Great influence here, guys.' Emma frowned at the men, who at least tried to look ashamed.

'As you may recall, I was in the Navy.' Killian crouched in front of the boys, passing a knot-tying book to Henry. 'If you lads want to be sailors, you need to know how to tie knots.'

'I do that all the time with my shoes,' Roland said.

'These knots are a bit more practical than that.' Killian shared an amused look with Emma. 'Let's see if you've both got what it takes to sail under Captain Jones, eh?'

'Aye, Captain!' Henry did a terrible salute, which Roland copied.

Emma watched her sons sit cross-legged on the middle of the wooden deck, taking turns snatching the book and trying to tie their rope into the right shape. Henry established the patterns rather quickly while Roland got more frustrated with his untangling loops. Leroy set about preparing fishing rods and equipment, as Emma and Killian tried not to laugh at the boys' squabbling.

'How old is Roland?'

'Four,' Emma answered.

'Four and a half!' Roland piped in.

'Right, four and a half.' She chuckled. 'Why?'

'He has a rather impressive vocabulary for such a young age,' Killian said, leaning against the mast with his arms crossed over his chest. His position looked oddly familiar, but Emma couldn't recall from where.

'Henry loves reading to his little brother,' Emma explained. 'He's always teaching him new words and skills so Roland can keep up with him. Henry leads the way, but they've always been a team. They just love being brothers.'

'Aye.' The sad look in Killian's eyes returned.

'This is stupid!' Roland tossed his rope down. 'Henry's better at everything!' he whined.

'No, I'm not.' Henry kept focused on his fourth knot, tying the loop around as if he'd been doing it all his life.

'It's not easy being the younger brother.' Killian smiled, moving to sit on a crate beside the little boy sulking on the deck.

'How would you know?' Roland huffed.

'I know.' Killian nodded, and Emma watched his body language for clues. 'I've been there, with my older brother Liam.'

'You have a brother?' Henry stopped to look at him as well. 'Where is he?'

'Gone. A long time ago.' Killian averted his gaze to the ocean waters. 'Liam was the bravest man I ever knew. He could tie knots in his sleep; he made everything look easy.'

'Was he in the Navy too?' Henry asked.

'Is he actually talking about Liam?' Leroy whispered to Emma, joining her side. 'I haven't even heard that name in years.'

'He was.' Killian nodded, sighing. 'He's the reason I joined. The point is, Roland, that having a big brother can be really annoying sometimes but when things are rough he'll always have your back.'

Emma smiled at the scene. The icy reminder that it was dangerous to get too close was melted by the warmth in her heart as she watched Killian bond with her sons.

She'd decided to go sailing that afternoon to get away from everything else for one weekend, and spend time with her boys before properly accepting her new responsibilities. A day on the open water was already turning into so much more.

'But why is he better at everything?' Roland grumbled, as Henry looped another complicated knot pattern.

'I asked my brother that once,' Killian said. 'Liam had this way of talking to people that always made them listen and respect him. I envied that.'

'What did he say?' Roland abandoned his rope, watching Killian with wide eyes.

'I'll never forget it.' Killian swallowed. 'He said, "I came first, little brother. Every step I take, you might follow. I have to make sure the footprints I leave are honourable ones." It took me a long time to realise what that meant.'

'What's it mean?' Roland asked.

'One day, you'll figure it out too.' Killian smiled, sharing a knowing look with Henry.

'Deep stuff,' Emma commented, as a moment of quiet followed.

'Making me wish I had a brother.' Leroy frowned. 'Can we talk about something else - like fish?'

'Aye.' Killian cleared his throat, turning his head to hide the blush Emma knew was there. 'Just...Keep trying.' He nodded to Roland and rose to walk along the deck away from the others.

Roland kicked at his knot, still huffing with his arms crossed. Henry tied his rope, and paused to glance at the smaller boy. He looked at the knot in his hands, then reached to retrieve Roland's.

'Here,' Henry said. 'I'll show you how to do it. Start with the little loop, then turn it around the bigger one...'

Emma knew Killian was avoiding them; his back was turned and posture stiff. Leroy shook his head and sighed, prompting Emma to let her boys settle their knot-tying conflict themselves. She walked to Killian's side, making sure her footsteps were loud enough to alert him.

He didn't look up from the rope in his hands, but neither did he ignore her.

'Your brother...' Emma hesitated, knowing how much it hurt to lose someone. 'It can't be easy to talk about.'

'Well, then let's not talk about it shall we?' His voice was gruff.

'Just...Thank you.' She nodded, placing a cautious hand on his arm. 'It may not seem like it right now, but it means a lot to Roland to have someone to relate to on that level. Someone who knows what it's like being the little brother. He thinks the world of Henry but they have very different interests. Roland struggles with that sometimes.'

She smiled at him when Killian glanced at her with vulnerable blue eyes. He looked over their shoulders to see Roland furiously knotting his rope with Henry's guidance, and the sadness in his eyes was a little less.

~ O ~

Emma didn't care that they hadn't caught any fish on their trip. The afternoon at sea was exactly what she needed after such a strange week of adjustment. A small town could keep her quite a lot busier than she'd expected. The salty air and cool breeze had a way of shedding everything left at shore – all her worries and responsibilities just seemed smaller and far away.

Until Killian implied he'd like to ask her out for a drink sometime, and a whole new set of anxieties came crashing down. Emma brushed it off and wandered to the side of the boat, looking to the blue horizon in hope of reclaiming her state of peacefulness.

'Can I see? Can I see?' Roland hopped on his feet, prompting Emma to turn.

Her youngest son made grabbing motions to Killian's spyglass while Henry sat on a crate nearby to use his own. Emma watched Killian look to her for approval then crouch to lift Roland into his arms. He only had one hand, but his grip on the child was safe and Roland looped an arm around the man's neck to increase that.

'What sort of magic do you have, Sister?' Leroy asked, also watching Killian with the boys.

'What?' Emma looked sharply at the shorter man.

'I haven't seen him this relaxed in a long time,' Leroy said. 'I'm just saying, whatever you and the pixies did for him by moving here – I'm glad you did.'

'We didn't do anything.' Emma shrugged.

'We're having a moment here,' Leroy grumbled. 'Don't ruin it.'

'Okay.' Emma bit back a laugh.

She wasn't sure what to think of Leroy's words - as if she and her sons had somehow breathed life back into Killian or something. She'd carefully distanced herself from the leather-clad man since he'd been getting too close, but Emma did enjoy watching him teach her sons to fish or tie knots.

She believed it was Killian who had helped them. He brought smiles to her boys' faces and gave them something to focus on other than everything that made them leave Boston behind.

The beginning of rain cut their trip shorter than planned. Leroy and Emma reeled in the anchor while Killian headed to the captain's area. He placed Roland in front of the steering wheel and handed Henry a compass. When Emma realised what he was letting Roland do with Henry's directional guidance, she had to keep herself from panicking.

'I don't think this is a good idea,' Emma stressed.

They were under a small roof, protected from the sour weather, but the rain made it difficult to see the shore. Killian was basically placing their lives into the hands of two little boys who didn't know anything more about sailing than what he was teaching them in the moment.

'I assure you, Swan, that I will step in if necessary,' Killian said, keeping his hand on the wheel though Roland maintained control of it. 'They're not doing this unsupervised. I'm a hell of a captain.' He smirked.

Emma still didn't like it and wasn't sure she could stretch her building trust further than it already was, but by the time she'd worked out if she was going to take action – they safely reached the docks. Henry and Roland were wet, but smiling as if they've just fought bumpy seas with a pirate ship.

Not wanting to let the weather put a stop to their trip entirely, the group agreed to meet back at the diner for ice cream. Emma took the boys home to get dried up and made a last-minute choice to bring the storybook with them.

Ruby had hot cocoas waiting, with added cinnamon for Emma and Henry. The rain had lessened by the time everyone finished their ice cream. Emma stayed at the booth with Killian, as Leroy accepted the boys' challenge practice their dart skills.

She knew this was her chance.

'Hey,' she nudged Killian to get his attention, placing the storybook in front of him. 'Do you believe in magic?'

'Magic?' He raised an eyebrow at her, then looked at the book. 'That depends on your definition of magic, love,' Killian said with a sly smile, which Emma rolled her eyes at.

'This book.' She paused to consider how to phrase it. 'These stories, they give Henry and Roland hope. It shows even the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing.'

'That explains a lot.' Killian flipped the book open, curiously looking over random pages. 'I take it Captain Hook is in here?'

'No.' Emma tilted her head, watching him. 'Strangely, no. But these fairytales...There's something about this town that just makes them seem quite real. Do you think that's crazy?'

Killian stopped on a page, then looked to the window of the diner where Regina and her daughter walked by under a large umbrella.

Emma hadn't forgotten what was done to her son regarding his birthday party and had no intention of letting that go.

Killian's expression creased and Emma moved closer to him to see what section of the book made him stop. It was an image of the Evil Queen. Her gaze lifted to the window as well, though the pair had walked out of sight.

There was just rain and the rumble in the distance from an oncoming storm.

'No,' Killian said quietly. 'I don't think it's crazy, love.'

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I love including Leroy, so that will continue since he's Killian's friend. I'd also like to point out that the pace and events of the story will pick up once their first week in Storybrooke is over, I just needed to show them actually getting settled in etc first. I'd love to hear your opinions on things so far!


	8. The Pain That Haunts Us

**The Pain That Haunts Us**

Emma had trouble believing that within only one week in Storybrooke she'd bought a house, made friends, and got a job. In one more day, she'd be reporting for duty at the sheriff station, but Emma was nervous about the added responsibility. She wasn't comfortable with the pace of the new changes in her life, no matter how determined she was to keep it together for her boys.

'Roland!' Emma tossed the dishcloth into the kitchen sink. She rushed across the room to take the crayons from his hands.

She sighed at the red and green stick figures lined on the wall, wishing she'd paid more attention to Moseley's quick methods of removing mess from walls or furniture. One week of full-time motherhood had begun developing Emma's confidence about the future, except in those moments when she knew Moseley would have handled something better.

The woman knew her sons and how to raise them more than Emma did. The sadness of that was replaced with frustration, as she shook her head at the sulking four-year-old. She still wasn't sure how to handle his constant forgetfulness of the house rules.

'Crayons are for paper, not walls.' Emma bent to meet his brown eyes and handed the crayons back with a stern look.

The boy wriggled away from her gaze and went to the living room where the paper was stored. Sighing, Emma glanced at the stairs and frowned. Henry had gone upstairs to get some books to read to Roland, but her instincts prompted her to see what was taking him so long. It was too quiet for a house with two small children.

She didn't need to be a mother full-time to know that was just another version of the calm before a storm.

'Henry?'

Emma halted at the top of the staircase when the ten-year-old rushed from her bedroom and headed to his own. She barely caught sight of his tearful face before the door slammed loudly into its frame. Emma headed into her room and looked around for what could have upset him - or why Henry would be in her bedroom at all.

Nothing seemed out of place and it unnerved her.

Their day at sea with Killian and Leroy put the boys in good moods for hours, but it hadn't kept Henry's nightmares at bay that night. All it took was a brief reminder of their past to wipe the smile off a young face.

Emma reached for her phone on the bedside table, tilting her head when her hand touched vacant wood. Hearing Roland call her from downstairs, Emma snatched the phone from the bed and left her room.

She glanced to Henry's door, indecisive.

'Mama!'

Emma huffed and went downstairs. She made the boys sandwiches, but Henry didn't leave his room when she called him. She knocked on his door, peering inside with a peace offering of food and juice. Henry ignored her and continued reading his book.

Emma left him alone until she'd decided enough was enough.

'Boots!' Roland reminded her, accepting the jacket she passed him.

'By the door.' Emma rolled her eyes at the green boots.

Roland was overly fond of them and it wasn't because green was his favourite colour. Those boots were one of the last gifts Moseley had given him before she'd died. Emma doubted her four-year-old realised that's why he was suddenly so attached to them and went into a panic if he couldn't find them. Just like the blanket on his bed that Moseley had knitted for Roland. Or the stack of books on his bedside table that she'd read to him on the nights they'd stayed with Moseley while Emma worked late hours.

Emma and Henry had thrown out or donated most of their painful reminders, but Roland was always the one who held on tighter.

She took her time approaching Henry's bedroom and hoped he'd be willing to talk to her. Stepping into his room, Emma saw the boy sitting at the window seat with a book. She inhaled a breath and straightened her posture to appear more confident than she was.

'Hey, Kid.' Emma offered a smile when he looked up. 'Come on, we're going to the playground.'

'Okay.' Henry slipped down and put the book on his desk.

'Grab your coat,' she reminded.

Henry rolled his eyes at her but did as he was told.

Emma watched him go down to join Roland by the door and second-guessed her worries. Maybe she'd seen it wrong? She was sure he'd been crying when he left her room earlier, but Henry seemed mostly himself again. Was it just the lingering nightmare that upset him instead of something new? Emma was frustrated that she didn't have some sort of motherly magic that just told her what to do and how to approach the situation.

Henry had been upset lots of times before – what had she done then?

'I've just got to make a stop first,' Emma said, directing the boys to her car.

'To see Killian?'

She turned at the growl in Henry's voice when he said the man's name. He buckled his seatbelt beside her and wouldn't meet her eyes. Emma checked Roland's passive face in the rear-view mirror.

'Uh, no.' Emma frowned, starting the engine. 'To see Ruby.'

'Red Riding Hood!' Roland happily declared.

'Yeah.'

'If it's real,' Henry muttered, crossing his arms as he stared out the window.

Emma did not like where this was going or wherever it came from. She kept quiet and had the boys wait in the car when she parked right outside the diner. That was another benefit of a small town.

'Here you go!' Ruby greeted Emma with a brown takeaway bag.

She paid and tried to return the smile, but Emma's mind kept drifting. She compared the way Henry eagerly spent time with Killian on the boat the previous day, to the anger he'd spoken the man's name with as if Killian was someone terrible.

'Emma?' Ruby nudged her hand. 'What's up?'

'Oh, it's...'

Nothing. That's what she was supposed to say – what she was so used to saying. It was nothing; she was fine. Except this time, she was out of her depth.

'Kid stuff. Henry's acting weird.'

'I thought kids were supposed to be weird?' Ruby offered a light joke, though her eyes were sympathetic. She had no parental wisdom to give and was trying to be helpful anyway.

'Yeah.' Emma chuckled, glancing over her shoulder to the car parked outside. 'It's just...He had a nightmare and I don't...' She halted, ducking her head in fear of saying too much.

'I'm not an expert with kids, but...' Ruby glanced to a booth near the back of the diner. 'You could always talk to Archie. Or have Henry talk to him. Maybe he's going through something that's just hard to talk to a mother about?'

Emma looked to Archie, who raised his eyebrows at the attention he received.

She remembered meeting him that first night in town and how much Henry liked Pongo. She knew about his job and where the office was, but Emma struggled with the concept of her son having someone else to confide in. There were a lot of risks, as she didn't know or properly trust Archie with their secrets even if it was his profession to be entrusted with them. But if Henry needed help she wasn't sure how to provide then Emma knew she had to at least try.

Her son's happiness was worth more than all their secrets.

'Emma, right?' Archie smiled as she approached.

'Yeah.' She nodded. 'I uh, I was wondering if you've got a moment?'

'Absolutely.' He nodded, gesturing to the seat across from him.

'I don't have that long.' Emma glanced back to the door. 'I just...I need a bit of advice.'

'I appreciate you taking the first step and reaching out,' Archie said. 'That's something that's often difficult for you, isn't it?'

'You don't know me.' Emma defensively crossed her arms.

'No, I don't.' Archie smiled politely. 'But it's my job to notice people. How can I help you, Emma?'

'It's my son, Henry,' she said. 'He's been having nightmares and now he's acting weird but I don't know if that's related.'

'I see.' He glanced down. 'And how long has Henry been having nightmares?'

Emma wanted to say a week. It wasn't too far from the truth and they'd certainly been more constant since leaving Boston, but she'd be lying.

'A while.' Emma fidgeted, averting her gaze and dropping her arms to her sides. 'Before we moved here, stuff happened. We lost someone.'

'Grief is a terrible and tricky thing,' Archie acknowledged while Emma bit back the urge to scoff at him stating the obvious. 'Especially for a child. What did he say, when you talked to him about what happened?'

Emma stuttered and crossed her arms again. She wanted to leave and just go to the playground like she'd planned. She was surely being judged and Emma hated it. Archie watched her as if he understood things about her sons that she didn't. It was almost as frustrating as the truth his words carried.

Emma considered everything that happened since Henry walked in to see the pool of blood on the floor that day. Richard had slapped him and they'd gone to Moseley – their safe haven. The woman was dead before they got there. Henry may not have seen as much as Emma dealt with, but the red puddle could not be ignored. Roland missed Moseley but Henry barely spoke of it.

Emma had been shouldered with full-time motherhood and still hadn't being doing much mothering at all.

She'd explained to her boys that Moseley was gone. They'd attended the rushed funeral to say goodbye. They left Boston and Emma wanted all of it to be left there completely – so much that she forgot her little boys didn't lock away their emotions like she did. They'd just never talked about it since Boston.

Were their nightmares her fault?

'Then there's the issue,' Archie said in a kind voice when she fell silent, which only irritated Emma more. 'Children don't see the world the same way we do. They don't see death and grief, just that someone they cared about is gone and that affects them. Maybe Henry's confused about how to move on emotionally - how to let go and know it's okay to do that.'

'What do I do?' Emma frowned, trying to reel in her own guilt.

'Find something he relates to; something that's his language. When a child doesn't know how to express complex emotion, he or she will often try to translate it into something else. That's how they communicate,' Archie said. 'If Henry can channel his emotions through a hobby or story that he's very involved with then it can help him deal with his problems. Imagination is critical for a child to learn to grow in a world that's very difficult and complicated. I'm sure you understand how important that is?'

Emma nodded, unable to meet his eyes. She muttered something she hoped was more gratitude than dismissal, and headed back outside.

Getting into the car, she could feel her sons watching her but didn't say a word. There would be time for that. Emma was going to take them to the playground so her sons just be kids for a while longer - kids who played and ran around as if death and grief didn't exist.

She was guilt-ridden and ashamed, but nothing fuelled her actions quite like being pissed. She was mad at everything and herself. Sitting in her car, Emma knew she had to get herself under control.

She glanced at the side mirror and more anger flushed through her at the sight of a justified outlet.

'Wait here,' Emma instructed the boys and stormed out of her car, ignoring the spark of the overhead power lines. Someone really should fix that hazard if it was so dangerous.

She pooled her features and marched up to the woman she'd been meaning to have a conversation with since Friday.

'It takes a special kind of jerk to sabotage a kid's birthday party.' Emma glared at Regina, who halted.

'Excuse me?' Regina's voice had an edge to it from forced politeness.

'Friday. Your daughter was invited too so don't pretend you didn't know.' Emma crossed her arms. 'At least I have the decency not to drag a child into this...Whatever it is you despise me for, but leave my son out of it.'

'Miss Swan, are you alright?' Regina frowned. 'You seem unsettled. Perhaps you should talk to Archie?'

'Or maybe I just need to...' Emma reeled in her comment about punching the woman in the face.

She probably should have waited until she'd cooled down before having this confrontation with the mayor.

'Look, I get that you don't know us, but all Henry wanted was to make friends and have his class come to his birthday party. Not one of those kids did.'

'And you think that's somehow my fault?' Regina's smile was a bit too smug. 'Miss Swan, did it occur to you that we have our own lives here? Maybe you're not familiar with how the real world works, but we have jobs and responsibilities in this town. Two days is hardly sufficient time to re-arrange our entire Friday afternoon just for you.'

'I know you said something to the other parents.' Emma stood her ground. 'You've had a problem with us ever since we came here. Well, guess what, Madam Mayor, we're not going anywhere so you better get used to that.'

Regina's smile faded and her dark eyes fixed on Emma.

It was a stand-off of stubbornness until a thought occurred to Emma that brought a smirk to her face. She wondered how many people had ever opposed Regina before - the woman didn't seem accustomed to being called out.

'You should be careful,' Regina said. 'This is my town. Everything you've begun to build here can just as easily be torn down.'

'What is that supposed to mean?'

'It means, don't underestimate me, Miss Swan. You have no idea what I am capable of.' Regina's face darkened. 'So I suggest you take your unfounded accusations elsewhere before...Well, this town is bigger than you think. It's entirely possible for bad things to happen here. Think about that.'

Emma let Regina walk away and resisted glaring after her. The outright anger turned to a general sense of hopelessness; the fire of emotions that fuelled her strength and confidence had burnt out. Emma looked to the yellow bug where her sons waited and decided she'd let Regina win that round.

For now.

* * *

Emma wasn't sure if the air was getting colder or if it was just her.

Henry scrunched the brown takeaway bag with both hands while Emma wiped sauce from Roland's mouth. The ten-year-old glared at the shadow approaching them. Emma felt a prickle on the back of her neck and knew it was Killian joining them before she'd turned to greet him.

'Hello.' He nodded to her and the boys, offering a strained smile as his eyes focused on Emma.

She bit back the urge to once again tease him about a number of times they seemed to appear where the other was. He'd sought her out and she had a feeling it wasn't going to be a reason that reminded her why she enjoyed his company.

Something was up.

'I don't wanna talk to you,' Henry scowled at the man.

'Go play.' Emma nudged the boys, watching them run to the distance where the playground stood against the backdrop of the blue sky. 'What is it?' she asked Killian.

'Regina.' He frowned. 'I overheard Sydney-'

'Who?'

'The editor of the Storybrooke Daily Mirror,' Killian said. 'He tends to gloat about his hatchet jobs. Guess who's featured in tomorrow's "big story" about an ex-jailbird who birthed her babe behind bars? Apparently that's the headline.'

'What?' Emma snapped, rubbing her hand over her forehead to remind herself to stay calm.

Henry kept glancing over at them and she had enough to deal with already.

'How did...' She growled in frustration.

'There's more, love,' Killian said sympathetically. 'The town's already throwing around gossip - about you being a former foster child and the suspicious haste you left Boston after a murder.'

'Did you say something to them?' Emma stared at him.

Through the fury, she begged her heart to hang on a moment longer in case he could honestly say he had nothing to do with it. She wanted to test his loyalty and know the person who had seen her at her most vulnerable so far hadn't betrayed that building trust between them.

'Of course not!' Killian's jaw clenched as he lowered his tone, darting a glance to the boys. 'Do you really think I would?'

'No,' Emma said quietly, unable to meet his eyes. 'Maybe it was a mistake coming here. Regina's made it clear we're not welcome.'

'And since when do you care what Regina thinks?' Killian stepped closer with a proximity Emma became acutely aware of. 'Don't let her get to you, love. You're stronger than that.'

'Why do you have such infuriating faith in me?' Emma asked angrily, raising her eyes to bear into his. 'You don't know me! You don't know what I was before Storybrooke.'

'Nor do you know me,' Killian said patiently. 'Yet here we are. Do you think my past is any better? We've all made mistakes we're not proud of, Swan.'

'Some more than others.' Emma frowned.

'Aye.' Killian nodded, looking down.

'I just want the nightmares to stop.' Emma watched her sons chase each other around the wooden playground bear the beach, pretending she wasn't standing so close to Killian. 'I failed them. I didn't want to talk about what happened the day Moseley died. I didn't even consider if they needed to.'

'That's hardly failure, Swan.' Killian's breath was close enough to be felt in the air between them.

'Then what is it?' She snapped, yet kept her voice low enough not to carry to her sons. 'Negligence? Selfishness? Ignorance?'

'Human,' he said, which she scoffed at and moved away. 'You want to carry all the burdens of the world so they don't have to. Then you blame yourself if any of it still slips through. You know you can't protect them from everything but you do you really think that's what they need? Or is it easier for you to believe that so you don't have to feel your own pain?'

'How would you know that?' Emma glared at him.

'Like I said, open book.' He smiled sadly, gesturing at her. 'And you know I'm right.'

'You don't know what I've been through or what I do.'

'I don't,' he admitted. 'But I was once a child. My brother Liam, he...He tried to carry both our burdens so I wouldn't have to carry any of mine. I had to watch him struggle with that every day, thinking if I could just be better like him then the weight on his shoulder's won't be so heavy.'

Emma watched Roland climb onto the platform of the castle, his grin wide and laughter musical. Henry followed, smiling yet not as brightly as he had the night of his birthday party or the previous day at sea. He paused occasionally to glare at Killian, who would quickly look away and scratch behind his ear.

Henry had turned on the man very quickly and Emma still didn't know what had caused her son's sudden behaviour. The only thing out of place in her bedroom was...

'Oh, crap!' Emma gasped, patting herself down until she found her phone. She flipped it open and hurriedly scanned through the recent communications.

'What is it, love?'

'Henry, he...' Emma's gaze fixed on the screen. 'Twelve minutes. Richard had a twelve-minute conversation with Henry this morning.'

'Richard?' Killian growled. 'That bastard who-'

'Yes.' She looked at her son, dread chilling through her veins. 'Twelve minutes – Richard had never even talked to Roland for that long. I have to go.'

'Swan?' Killian reached for her arm but she pulled away. 'Swan!'

Emma rushed to the playground, startling the boys. She mentally thanked Killian for staying back, as she directed them both off the platform and back to the yellow bug.

'Mama?' Roland worried when she paused to gather her thoughts.

Henry stared at her phone, eyes unblinking and face moody. It was all the confirmation Emma needed and she felt sick to her stomach. She'd once again failed to protect her son from the man who should never have been allowed near their lives at all.

With her thoughts and emotions at war, Emma drove them back to the house without a word. She sat them down in the living room and every instinct told her it was time to take Archie's advice.

She needed to find something that was in their language – like a story.

'Mama?'

'It's okay, Roland,' Emma said, returning to the living room to crouch in front of them. 'I know a lot of things have been going on lately and I got a bit carried away. Storybrooke is our home now and a fresh start, but that doesn't mean you have to pretend what happened in Boston wasn't real.'

Henry instantly crossed his arms and tensed. Roland just looked confused and scrunched his expression in effort to understand. The four-year-old didn't need to be there for the conversation, but it could have just as easily been Roland to answer the phone instead of Henry.

Emma wasn't sure where to stay and flipped through the pages of the storybook for inspiration. She landed on a page of Prince Charming and a golden statue. Scanning over the words to remember which part of the story it was, Emma smiled.

'Look at this.' She turned the book around and her boys leaned closer to see. 'This is your grandfather.'

Emma stopped doubting herself about convincing her boys of the story and its connection to the real world. Archie was right – imagination was what they needed. Henry had been so focused and proud when he thought he'd found her parents. Emma didn't care if the curse was real, but hope was. Hope was more important than anything else right now.

'Prince Charming?' Henry looked at her. He'd believed it before but now scepticism formed across his face.

'Yes.' Emma nodded. 'And here he's being what he always has been: a hero. But it's more than that. Do you remember when King George told Snow White to lie? She had to tell Prince Charming that she didn't love him or else Prince George would kill him.'

'So?' Henry frowned, leaning back on the couch.

'So, King George used lies and trickery to make them unhappy because he's unhappy. He was a bitter man who didn't care who he had to hurt to get what he wanted.' Emma turned the pages, showing the wedding between Prince Charming and Snow White. 'True love still won.'

Emma passed the book to Roland to keep him busy. Henry refused to meet her eyes.

'Henry.' She tried to place a hand on his, but he jerked away. 'Richard is a villain like King George. He doesn't have a title or riches; he uses words. He lies and tricks.'

'You're lying!' Henry growled, glaring at her. 'If he lied to us all that time then you'd know. You wouldn't make us stay there if he just lied all the time.'

Emma leaned back, letting herself drop to the floor as crouching became too uncomfortable. Moseley had asked her about her superpower a few times and how Richard got around it. Swallowing, Emma met the angry gaze of her ten-year-old son and knew she'd have to let her mask crack a little bit. She wanted to protect them from everything but she couldn't be completely infallible in their eyes.

They needed to understand.

'My superpower wasn't wrong, Henry. I was.' Emma sighed. 'I wanted to believe Richard so badly that I ignored the signs when he lied. I messed up, Kid. I fell for his tricks too.'

'Not all of them.' Henry squirmed. 'I mean, you were brave all the time. You stopped him. You...'

'Mama's a hero,' Roland said, showing his widest smile with the gap of his missing tooth. 'Like Prince Charming.'

'Why is Richard so mean?' Henry asked quietly, tears forming in his eyes as he fiddled his hands at his lap. 'Why does he hate us?'

'He doesn't know us,' Emma said. 'He never tried to, Henry. He's a very angry man and none of that is our fault. I'm sorry you had to go through that. I should have gotten us out a lot sooner.'

'Why didn't you?' Henry frowned.

'Was it me?'

'No, Roland. No.' Emma stood to scoop Roland into her arms and took his place on the couch beside Henry.

The little boy held to the book while Emma turned him around, though her eyes remained Henry. She caught sight of the golden statue on the page and smiled, once again offering it as an example that made more sense to them.

The storybook spoke their language.

'In every story, especially this one because it's real, there's always a moment when things change,' Emma said. 'A low moment before the hero fights back. When things are so without hope that it's hard to feel brave or know what to do. That's what happened; that's why it took so long.'

'Because...' Henry raised his eyebrows and moved closer to the book. 'Richard's a villain who lied and tricked until you fought back? So...You defeated him?'

'Damn right.' Emma smiled, hiding her relief the story angle was working. 'Now we're in Storybrooke - a place of hope and magic. Anything is possible here.'

'But...They don't know that.' Henry straightened. 'The curse is preventing them from seeing that too - that heroes win and villains lose!'

'Exactly.' Emma nodded. 'We can help them, with Operation Sea-Lion. We'll break the curse and bring back the happy endings. King George tried to take Prince Charming and Snow White's happy ending away. Now the Evil Queen is trying to take them all. We know the truth, Henry. That's how we're going to win. Just like we defeated Richard.'

'You did.' Henry ducked his head. 'I couldn't do anything. I just...' He touched a hand to his cheek, remembering the slap.

'You fought back.' Emma held his hand. 'He slapped you because he lost control and he was angry. Nothing that happened that day was your fault. We're going to talk about these things from now on, okay?'

'Like Moseley?' Henry asked. 'And all the stuff Richard did?'

'Yes.' Emma shuddered. 'All of it. We won, Henry. I know he hurt you but he can't do that anymore. Whatever lies he told you on the phone was just another trick.'

'He...' Henry looked away. 'He said everything was my fault. And any guy will only want you, not me. Not our family. Richard said he learned that the hard way that I'm not worth putting up with and he wasted three years of his life because of us.'

It explained why Henry became hostile towards Killian, another man in their life who Henry believed would only be interested in knowing her. It shed light on a lot of things, but Emma was too busy seething under the surface to count them all. She had Roland leaning back against her chest while her arms wrapped around his middle, and it was probably all that kept her from getting up to express her fury. When she thought Richard couldn't sink lower, he always proved her wrong.

Emma was so mad she forgot how to form words.

'He hurt you too.' Henry's sad eyes looked at her.

'Yeah,' Roland added. 'He's a stupid dragon. We need swords, Mama.'

Emma rested her chin on Roland's shoulder, emotions in such turmoil she couldn't work out what to call them. She'd forced herself to forget, but Richard had hurt her more than Emma wanted to face. She knew it could have been so much worse and that was what she'd always fallen back on; if it could be worse then she must be fine.

'Let's take a break,' she barely managed to speak calmly. 'I'll be right back.'

She snatched the TV remote and turned on some cartoons, slipping Roland back onto the couch with the book.

Offering her boys a smile, Emma turned and hurried up the stairs and shut her bedroom door as quietly as possible. She inhaled a long breath to brace herself for the path her mind was taking.

Emma looked at her wrist - to the yellowed mark of the faded bruise. She'd suppressed a lot of the last three years. She touched her hand to her neck, remembering the time Richard grabbed her so tight she had to wear a scarf afterwards. Emma brushed her fingers over her left cheek, reliving the sting of glass cutting her skin from the cup Richard threw at her that shattered against the wall instead.

There were more moments, each flashing through her mind in recollection of her own pain that she'd endured and denied far too long. It was then Emma finally realised why she'd really stayed with Richard for so long – for three whole years, despite his constant anger and degrading insults tossed her way. He'd gone on about how useless and unwanted she was, and Emma hadn't left him because she'd believed him.

She'd allowed that horrible man to convince her she was nothing special or important, but even then Emma knew she'd never actually been nothing. Not completely. She was trying her best in a world always against her, but that didn't make her useless or unwanted.

She was just...Human.

The acceptances of Killian's words should have strengthened her, but the understanding was drowned in the resurfaced truth of just how miserable she'd really been with Richard. Instead of finding resolve, she crumbled. The weight she carried began to close in on her, as Emma slid down the wall and covered her face with her hands to mute the mounting sobs.

Something inside her just broke, like a dam trying to contain an entire ocean.

She curled into herself and cried until nothing remained – no pain or denial. When Emma pulled herself off the bedroom floor and went to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face, only then did her strength begin to climb over her regret and raw honesty.

Gripping the sink, Emma stared into the reflection of her own reddened eyes and exhaled a long breath. She was broken but Richard hadn't won. She would never give him the satisfaction of tearing her down beyond repair.

With another splash of cooling water to her face, Emma returned to her bedroom and carefully parted the door. She could hear the cartoons playing loudly downstairs and her boys giggling at the characters on the screen.

They were untouched by the rumours and whispers spreading through town and Emma knew it was only a matter of time before the gossip reached them. She couldn't save her boys from everything but Emma had an idea. There is one thing she could do. It was probably stupid and rash, but she needed to take something back. She yearned to prove, at least to the people of Storybrooke, that she was still strong and capable.

They could gossip all they liked and Emma wasn't going to let it change anything.

'Stay here,' Emma instructed the boys, pulling on her blue jacket. 'I need to run a quick errand, okay?'

She trusted them to stay. They'd done it before with the apartment and she was never gone for long.

Finding the building wasn't much effort and Emma was glad for the back gate. Emma looked around for the ideal tool and spotted a red chainsaw inside a small shed. The gardener had even left it unlocked. She supposed, given how emotional she was, it would look rather foreboding for her to have such interest in the tool.

She didn't care.

Emma revved the chainsaw and grinned at the tall apple tree she knew Regina thought highly of. She'd overheard some speech about the fruit of apples and read between the lines; the symbolism was exactly what Emma needed.

With satisfying motions, she steered the rapid blade through a thick branch of the tree and watched it fall. Emma glanced to the window of the office and smirked. Regina's livid face staring down at her in disbelief already made the entire trip worth it.

Though, not as much as seeing the mayor run furiously across the yard while trying to maintain some level of control or dignity.

'What the hell are you doing?' Regina yelled on approach.

'Picking apples,' Emma said, dumping the chainsaw on the grass behind her.

'You're out of your mind.' Regina glared in her face.

'No, you are if you think scandalised newspaper articles and petty town gossip is enough to scare me off. You're going to have to do better than that,' Emma told her smugly, confidence increasing the deeper Regina glared. 'You come after me or my sons again, I'm coming back for the rest of this tree.'

Emma inched closer to the mayor's face, pleased to see her intimidation was working enough that her words held the weight she'd intended. Regina was fuming but didn't rebuttal.

'As much as you try to add dirt to my name, you still don't know anything me.' Emma smirked with the knowledge that this time she held all the power and higher ground. 'Leave my family alone. Because, sister, you have _no idea_ what _I_ am capable of.'

Emma walked away, flushing with regained self-assurance that she was going to be okay. Richard couldn't touch her family anymore, but Emma wasn't going to stop there. With her pending new job as deputy sheriff in mind, Emma knew this time she was ready for the new responsibilities. Storybrooke was their home now and no one was going to take that away. No one was allowed to decide her life or suppress her presence in the town just because they didn't like her being there.

Emma hadn't made it this far to _only_ make it this far.


End file.
